


I’d Follow You to the Edge of the Damn Universe

by 2ArrowsNTheBack



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Barry Allen Needs a Hug, Best Friends, Bisexual Male Character, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e15 Singularity, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, My First Fanfic, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oliver Queen Needs a Hug, Other, Pining, Polyamorous Character, Redemption, Slow Burn, Soft Boys, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 31,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22286878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2ArrowsNTheBack/pseuds/2ArrowsNTheBack
Summary: Barry couldn’t seem to get anything right.He fell in love with his sister’s fiancé (who in turn fell in love with him), watched him die, and pushed virtually everyone out of his life. It’s for their own protection, after all – the last time they were all together, his decisions caused the Singularity that destroyed countless parts of Central City. Still there’s one man he can’t stay away from. Barry’s road to redemption and forgiveness may be long and hard, but with Oliver Queen’s help, he just might be able to find his happy ending. Who says one broken hero can’t help another?
Relationships: Barry Allen & Caitlin Snow, Barry Allen & Cisco Ramon, Barry Allen & Eddie Thawne, Barry Allen & Iris West, Barry Allen & Joe West, Barry Allen & Oliver Queen, Barry Allen/Eddie Thawne, Barry Allen/Oliver Queen, Iris West & Joe West, Oliver Queen & Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen & Joe West
Comments: 16
Kudos: 122





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!! This is my first fic ever!! I’m a big fan of the DC shows and Olivarry, and Elseworlds is honestly stressing me out but it’s all good. Anyways, please leave a kudos and comment — any advice is greatly appreciated, although please be nice! Thanks, love you all, and hope you enjoy!
> 
> By the way, this entire fic is all written out. I’m just posting as I edit.

_They could barely catch their breath, Eddie laughing so hard he’s coughing like a dying dog, and Barry’s got tears streaming out of his eyes. To be honest, he can’t even remember what was so funny, only that they both couldn’t breathe._

_Barry caught his breath and used the sleeve of his sweater to wipe the sides of his eyes. He looked over at Eddie, struggling to stifle the last of his giggles. He had this radiant smile on his face, and the streetlights were highlighting his face at just the right angle that he looked like he was glowing. Barry felt some sort of affection in his chest, like something waiting to burst out, but he just smiled at Eddie with an equally giant grin._

_“Hey Eddie?” Barry asked, sounding a bit serious._

_“Yeah?” Eddie turned to look at him, never losing that goddamn perfect grin._

_“What does it feel like? You know, when you’re in love?” Barry stopped walking and turned to look Eddie in his blue-grey eyes._

_Eddie stopped walking as well, pausing for a moment before speaking, his words careful and measured. “Well, I think one of the first things you notice are all the little physical things. Like, your hands won’t stop shaking and your knees are weak. Sometimes, you feel all queasy, like a colony of butterflies is in your stomach, just aching to fly free. Some people really do leave you breathless, don’t they?” Eddie gave a dry chuckle. “But then, you start to notice the bigger things too. Like, you can’t stop thinking about them or you start to notice the little details about them.” Eddie sighed. “But the biggest thing, I think? Is when you put their needs before yours. That’s the moment that you truly love someone. Barry, have you ever loved someone so much it hurt?“_

_Barry, mesmerized by Eddie’s speech, was caught off by the question. He recalled the pang in his chest, in his heart, from earlier and tried to push the thought out of his mind. He couldn’t._

_“I, I mean, I think so,” Barry whispered, afraid of ruining the moment. He hadn’t even realized that he and Eddie had been unconsciously moving closer, so close that Barry could count the little flecks trapped in Eddie’s eyes. Eddie grabbed his hands and held them, and he knew that if either of them leaned in any closer, their lips would meet. Barry’s entire body felt electric, and he was terribly aware of Eddie’s breath, warm on his face. He smiled, and he wished he could stretch that moment out forever, just him and Eddie trapped in their own perfect world._

_But then the scene was changing. He was in the particle accelerator. There was blood. So much blood. Eddie’s eyes were boring into his, filled with pain and remorse and just a hint of pride. God,  Barry thought,  you didn’t have to kill yourself to be a hero. You always were._

_Iris was hovering over him. She should be here, after all, he’s her fiancé. It’s all his fault, everything’s his fault, and oh god, the blood, the blood. Everything is blurry, but he can still hear Eddie’s voice, calling out to Barry, asking him to lean in. He’s whispering in Barry’s ear, his lips, stained blood red and probably salty to the taste. Barry could feel it, the warm breath hitting his own prickly skin._

_“I think this is what love feels like.”_

_But then he collapses his head back, and Iris is talking to him, screaming, crying, and Barry is just sitting there, staring at Eddie, and oh god, the blood, and he wished he had told him sooner, before it was too late, that he was a hero, that he loved him, because his eyes were listless and Barry was screaming and Eobard Thawne was just sitting there, taunting him again and again until Barry saw red and–_

Barry sat up in his bed, gasping for breath as the last screams left his raw throat. He sat for a moment, resting on the heels of his hands as he caught his breath. The images were still burned into his mind, bringing up memories he had long since tried to repress. He was thankful that he had moved out when everything happened, because he’s not sure he would have been able to handle Joe’s pitying looks or Iris’s questioning, pained stares. Still, in the empty apartment, he didn’t want to be alone. He felt the first tear fall and leave a small stain on his blanket, and then the next, and then the next, until he was full on sobbing. He collapsed against the headboard, curling into himself and grabbing the blanket in his fists. 

This was wrong, this was so wrong. He shouldn’t be crying for him. He was his sister’s fiancé. His death was Barry’s own fault anyways. If he hadn’t been selfish enough to let Thawne out, Eddie and Iris could be having their perfect wedding right now. instead, he’s alone at two am, haunted by the images of those blue grey eyes and the phantom of warmth surrounding his hands.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this anymore. It had been over five months, and somehow it didn’t get any easier. He was a crappy brother, and he knew it. He had pushed Iris so far away, declined all of her family dinners and movie nights and her offers to help with Flash business, all because he couldn’t stand the sight of her red-rimmed eyes. But she was grieving. She needed him, and he wasn’t there. He’s not sure what made him feel the worst.

He climbed out of bed and, throwing on the first pair of clothes he found, ran in the direction of the one person he hoped could help, tears stinging his eyes the whole way.

***

He knocked on the door, tears freely streaming down his face and hands curling and uncurling into fists. The run over had helped a bit, after all 600 miles was a nice easy run for him, but his thoughts just kept circling back to Eddie, again and again. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get him out of his head. It was memory after memory playing on a loop in his head, but it always ended with blood, so much blood, and his inability to speak, because God he wished he had spoken–

The door opened, and it took Barry a moment to realize where he was. Oliver stood at the door, shirtless, disgruntled, and evidently annoyed. One look at Barry? Oliver’s heart melted. Barry didn’t even bother to say hello, just sped into Oliver’s arms, body wracking with sobs as he buried his face deep in the other man’s chest.

“God, Ollie, I can’t do this, I–” he choked out in between cries. Oliver just hummed, closing his arms around Barry and resting his chin on the younger man’s head. There would be time for talking later, but now, he knew the speedster just needed a moment to let go.

After Barry calmed down a bit, Oliver walked them back and settled on the couch, his arms never leaving Barry. He had heard about the singularity on the news, but he figured it was just one of those crazy Central City problems. After all, he had seen Barry run out of the tornado. Barry was okay. That’s all that had mattered. He didn’t know what had upset Barry so much that he ran all the way to Starling to see him, but he understood Barry in a way no one else did. Sometimes, the weight of everything just became unbearable.

Barry finally stopped crying, separating himself from Oliver. “Sorry about that,” Barry said, nervously laughing. “Usually I don’t do that. I’m usually more, well, composed.”

Oliver shook his head lightly. “You don’t have to apologize, Barry.”

But then Barry was shaking his head, starting to stand up from the couch and back away. “No, no, no, this was a mistake. I mean, I probably interrupted your sleep and when your REM sleep is interrupted you remember some wacky dreams,–“ 

“–Barry–”

“–and it was stupid anyways, running six hundred miles, it’s just that I couldn’t talk to my team about this–”

“–Bear–”

“–Hell, I couldn’t talk to anyone! And thank you for this, but I can’t bother you any longer and–”

“Barry!”

Barry stopped and looked at Oliver, his wide doe eyes already starting to lose their red rims. “Look, you just sobbed into my arms for a solid ten minutes and I didn’t shoot you, so I’d say that you probably weren’t bothering me, don’t you think?”

Barry sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck with his arm, gazing at the floor.

“Do you want some tea?”

The question surprised Barry. Somehow, he was expecting the third degree, at least a couple of pitying looks and asking if he was okay. But then he remembered, this was  Oliver.  If there was anyone who understood emotional constipation, Felicity’s words, not his, then it would be him.

“I’d love some, actually,” Barry answered, taking a seat perched on the edge of the couch. Oliver stood up, patting one hand on his shoulder as he walked by. It was as if Oliver knew exactly what he needed, enough space to calm down yet enough contact to ground him.

After a few minutes, Oliver returned with a steaming cup of tea in his hands. “Don’t drink this too fast,” he said, offering Barry a small smile. Barry returned the gesture, but his smile was weak, and watery, and once again he could feel his eyes filling up with tears. 

“Barry…?” Oliver prompted, not probing, just asking.

“It’s all my fault,” Barry said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I shouldn’t be allowed to grieve him, then, right? Then why do I see him all the time, every time I close my eyes, every time I’m on the street, why does he keep haunting me?”

Oliver rubbed his hand gently, up and down Barry’s back. “I see him, and it’s a happy memory and everything’s okay, but then he’s gasping for breath and there’s red seeping through his shirt and he’s dying all over again and I still can’t stop it. I never can.”

Oliver could feel Barry’s pain, and he wasn’t exactly sure why Barry came to him. Sure he’d had a lot of grief in his life, but he’d never dealt with it the right way. Hell, he couldn’t even go to his own mother’s funeral, opting instead for disappearing into a void of anger. But he couldn’t let Barry do that. 

“Barry, who is he?” Barry sucked in a breath, not entirely sure if he can say the name without his voice cracking and his whole world imploding all over again.

“He was, um, he was a, uh, good friend,” Barry settled with.

“Did he love you?” The question surprised Barry, but he should’ve expected it. The words martyr and self-sacrifice were practically dripping out of him, and Barry wouldn’t have been surprised if they already rolled off his tongue earlier when he was less, coordinated, so to speak.

“Yes,” the answer came out as barely over a whisper, and Oliver watched him with a calculating gaze.

“Did you love him?” 

Barry knew the answer, knew it ever since that stupid night at the park, the almost kiss and the almost love confessions and now the almost apologies.

“Yes.” 

Oliver sighed. “Does Iris know?”

Barry bolted upright, eyes wide open. “What do you mean, does Iris know? What would she have to do with any of-”

“I’m not stupid, Barry. Anyone could see it.”

Now it was Barry’s turn to sigh, kicking the carpet with the edge of his converse. “Yeah, well, everyone except for him. We never, uh, nothing ever happened.”

“Because of her.”

“Because of her.”

Barry’s not even sure how Oliver managed to weasel out that much information from him, as it’s more than anyone else had gotten in over five months. He never gave a reason for pushing the team away, never told them why he couldn’t see them around, and they choked it up to some unresolved guilt issues. But god, it was so much more than that. He could feel the tears welling up again, the lump in his throat forming, and he pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes. 

“I just, I wish I told him, you know?” Barry paused. “He told me. Dying breath and everything, like we were in one of those stupid rom coms he always liked.”

Oliver shifted himself closer to Barry, close enough that their knees were touching and he could reach over at any time, but still far enough that Barry could breathe. Barry found himself oddly thankful for Oliver’s uncanny observation skills, leaning into the touch without feeling smothered.

“You know,” Oliver started, “you can’t choose whether or not you tell him. Don’t,” he pointed a finger at Barry, “even think about it. But, you do get to choose whether or not you tell her about it.” Barry eyes must have given away how scared he was, because Oliver gave him a soft gaze. “She’ll understand. She’s your sister.”

“And she was his fiancé!” Barry stood up, and suddenly he was standing, voice raised. “You know why he died? Because of me!”

“I’m sure that’s not-“

“You wanna know the cause of that wormhole? Me. I tried to run back in time back to that night, to save my mother. I held her as she died Ollie.” His eyes were unending pools of fury, and Oliver recognized the same kind of darkness in Barry that he recognized in himself. It was terrifying. Still, after getting no answers from anyone at Star Labs, Barry included, about what really happened that day, Oliver figured beggars can’t be choosy. “Of course I couldn’t save her, so I watched her die! And then I come back, and Thawne is about to kill me. So what does Eddie do? He shoots himself. To save me. And then the singularity starts to eat up the whole damn city and I couldn’t get Ronnie out and this whole damn thing wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been selfish. Because that’s what I always am, Ollie. Selfish.”

Oliver stood to join him, guiding Barry to the couch by the shoulders. Barry was still breathing heavily from the screaming. “I would have done the exact same thing and you know it Bear. Anyone would have.”

“I shouldn’t have,” Barry said, staring at the floor. “That’s the difference. I was in that situation. I should’ve been stronger.”

Oliver pulled Barry onto his chest and held him as Barry sat there, numbly, vaguely aware of the older man’s heat as he drifted tearlessly to sleep.


	2. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who made it this far, thank you!! Love you all!!

Barry winced as he scrolled through the missed texts and calls on his phone, running back to Central City. He had his phone set up to alert him about any metahuman attacks, but that didn’t mean that Barry could neglect his day job. He finally got to his apartment and crashed on the couch, pressing the second speed dial and holding the phone up to his ear. 

“Bear, where the hell have you been?” Joe answered on the first ring and frankly, his voice was a lot louder than it should be for anything short of a life-threatening emergency.

“Hi Joe, how was your day? Mine was great, thanks for asking,” Barry counters, sarcasm dripping from him voice. He can practically hear the eye roll from the other side of the call.

“Young man, you better have a damn good excuse for where you’ve been.”

Now Barry was the one rolling his eyes. He was twenty-six and sometimes Joe still treated him like a five year old.

“I don’t have to tell you where I am twenty-four seven, Joe. I’m a grown man and I can make my own decisions.”

“That’s all well and fine, Bear, except for the fact that I had to cover your ass with Singh today. I know you wanted space and time, and I’ve been giving it to you. We all have.” There’s a pause. “But I still care about you, and it worries me when you disappear for a day. With you on the streets all by yourself, it’s not hard to see where my mind might go.”

Barry sighed, laying back on the couch and kicking his legs over the armrests. As per usual, out of the entire team (ex-team, he mentally kicks himself), Joe was the most emotionally healthy. “I’m sorry. Thanks for covering for me with Singh. I do appreciate it.”

“I’m glad to know you’re okay, son.” 

And there it was. The sentence that utterly destroyed him. Joe deserved an answer and so much more from Barry but just like he always does, Barry was letting him down. Every time that Barry saw Joe, he saw Iris and he saw Eddie and he saw a man struggling with losing two of his partners because Barry was selfish, was slow, wasn’t good enough. 

To top it all off, he knew that Iris had moved back in with her dad, completely understandable after losing her fiancé. It was hard enough avoiding Iris when she showed up at his office, at Jitters, at his apartment–how she got the address, he’ll never know. Eventually, she stopped showing up. They all did.

He wasn’t outright mean to Joe. No, he didn’t think that he could ever try to hurt him. Yet, he kept their relationship to a minimum, friendly nods and small talk at the police station. He figured changing all the locks at Star Labs would have been a message enough, but it was only after telling him that he needed space that Joe backed off.

“Barry?” Joe’s voice, concerned, snapped him out of his thoughts as he brought his attention back to the phone call at hand. 

“Thanks, Joe,“ Barry whispered after a considerable pause, and his mouth remained open for a moment as he considered telling Joe about the nightmares, about Oliver, hell, about Eddie. But the dial tone rang through his ear and Barry realized that he missed his chance.

Barry sighed and swung his legs onto the floor. He walked slowly to the kitchen, grabbing ten packs of frozen dinners from his rather large freezer, and tossing one of them into the microwave. Barry smiles. The fridge had been a gift from Cisco, with likely backing from Dr. Wells – Eobard, he reminds himself – soon after they figured out it would take over eight hundred tacos a day to sustain himself.

He pulls the first frozen dinner out of the microwave and plops another one in, not even bothering to use his speed quicken the process. When all ten are heated, he takes a seat on his couch, turns the tv on to some of the Office reruns, and digs in. As he eats, he can’t help but have a craving for homemade pancakes and secret smiles.

***

“ _Who is that guy, and what is he so proud of?” Iris makes her way over to Barry, slapping a file down on the table between them. His ribs are burning and his hands are a little sticky from pressing a bloody tissue to his nose, but he looks over to Iris and smiles. Well, it’s more of a grimace. “So, he caught a mugger?” She sits down beside him._

_“He’s a transfer from Keystone. Started a few weeks ago. Eddie Thawne.” Barry recites the information like he was reading a case file, cold facts. He tries to leave the bitterness out of his voice at the fact that Detective Newbie here stole Barry’s knight in shining armor moment, making him look less like a handsome knight and more like a scrimpy, nerdy best friend._

_“Oh, so that’s Detective Pretty Boy.” Iris nods in understanding._

_Barry looks over at her in slight disbelief. Him?  Although admittedly, while his blond hair and blue eyes gave him a golden boy look, there was something about him that gave him this ruggedly look. Barry knows, from working in the precinct and growing up with Joe, just how tough being a cop can be, the horrors that they all see daily. Eddie’s got that haughty look on his face like a new detective that just caught his tenth criminal, but there’s also a hardness, a steel behind his eyes._

_“That’s what my dad calls him. Says he actually keeps score when it comes to arrests,” Iris tells him, as if Joe hadn’t already ranted to him countless times over the past couple of weeks. Still, he drinks in Iris’s words like a starving man. “He is pretty, though.”_

_Barry looks back at him, trying to see what the big fuss is about. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Iris looking him up and down, and tries to ignore the knot in his stomach that clenches at the thought._

_But then Eddie looks up from his conversation with Officer Smith and glances in their direction, locking eyes with Barry for a moment. And damn, Barry finally sees why they called him Detective Pretty Boy because the knot in his stomach just grew a whole lot tighter, and he knew that he would be dreaming about those piercing blue eyes for days. It was just a moment, but Barry could see himself getting lost in the man._

***

Barry woke up gasping. It was almost comical, the way he shot up, eyes wide, hands gripping the blanket. His first thought was, holy shit, I had another dream about Eddie, my best friends fiancé. His second thought was, holy shit, how am I going to look him in the eye after that.

His third thought was, holy shit he’s dead, and if that didn’t feel like a punch to the gut then Barry didn’t know what did.

Barry stood up and padded his way over to the kitchen. He tucked his phone into the front pocket of his sweatpants and grabbed an empty glass from the kitchen cabinet, filling it up with tap water. Somehow, the way the moonlight filtered in through the kitchen window and mixed with the liquid in the glass made it look like the exact shade of Eddie’s eyes.

Or maybe he was just seeing things.

He left the glass, untouched, in the sink anyways.

His first thought was to call Oliver, as he made his way over to the couch, not yet wanting to settle back into the bedroom. But that would be the second time in as many days, and while things, in particular, feelings, were a lot easier to handle with the broody vigilante around, he didn’t want to bother the man. He would examine the irony in the most emotionally constipated man he knew also being the one who could get him to open up the most another day.

His next thought was to call Joe, Cisco, Iris, Caitlin, literally anyone, but he half of them probably hated him right now, and the other half would hate him if they heard what he had to say. 

The unhealthy, but more likely option, would be for him to lay on the couch and watch Netflix until it was time to get ready for work. Barry leaned forward to grab his phone from where he had left it on the nightstand – 3:07am. That meant a lot of episodes of Friends, even if he watched it at normal speed.

Barry knew exactly what the healthy option was, but Barry Allen was not known for being emotionally healthy.

He settled down on the couch, switching the tv on and setting it to start Friends, opting to start at the beginning. He was about five minutes in of Rachel being a spoiled runaway bride and Ross being the definition of besotted before he abruptly grabbed the remote and turned off the tv. 

Before he could change his mind, he used his speed to change into some clothes decent for humanity, and started the slow walk outside. He could have sped there, but this felt like something he couldn’t speed up for.


	3. Asters and Irises

He gripped the bundle of asters in both hands as he weaved his way through a grassy path he hadn’t been back at since the funeral, a path he had walked a million times in his mind. He had wanted to get a bouquet of irises for him; he knew that they were his favorite flowers, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

The sky was still dark out, a spattering of stars stretching across the sky and a nearly full moon sparkling in the corner. Day twenty-six of the lunar cycle, his mind supplied with no provocation. 

He finally made his way to the gravestone and sat in front of it, dew from early morning staining the bottoms of his sweatpants. There was still that damp feeling in the air of the day after a stormy night —had it been raining last night? He couldn’t remember.

“Hey,” he started, shifting the bouquet into one hand and wiggling the fingers of the other in some sort of pseudo wave. “It’s me. Barry. Sorry I haven’t been here since the funeral.”

Barry laid the flowers by the side of the gravestone, and noticed a couple of irises in the cup, freshly watered. He didn’t feel so bad about the botany cop-out.

“I wanted to bring irises but, um, I thought it might be awkward. You know, with...with everything.” Barry couldn’t find it in himself to say her name. “Although I see you’ve already got some, so it’s not too big a deal. Besides, these are purple! You told me that  her favorite color was purple, so you started using a lot more purple. God, we spent a lot of time talking about Iris when we shouldn’t have, and a lot of time not talking about her when we should have been, you know?”

Barry lets out a humorless chuckle, settling with his legs crossed, knees touching the gravestone. It was cold, so cold he could feel a shiver going through his knees, up his chest, until his fingers trembled and suddenly everything came spilling out.

“I wish I told you sooner. Hell, I wish I told you. I mean, what kind of dying words are that? With Iris standing two feet from you? You fucking died for me and it’s all my fault, and I robbed you of everything but I also robbed myself of so many things with you. Me, and everybody else.”

Right now, Barry wished the ground would just open up and swallow him whole, that he could just disappear from existence. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything. God, I’m too much of a coward to even leave, when I  know  everybody’s life would be better off without me,” Barry said, as if Eddie could hear him from six feet under. Really, there was no difference here, between the words he said and the words he thought, not when the whole damn graveyard is barren except for a woman breaking several rows to the left. He wished it was this way in real life, that Eddie could’ve looked at him and just  known.  Maybe he did, on some level.

“God, I’ve been talking about losing you like it’s some big loss, but what could we have had if you were alive, huh? I’m never gonna be a homewrecker, and I can’t do that to Iris. You know this.” Barry sighs. “I’m just so tired of existing, Eddie. I know it was just a short time in the grand scheme of things, but it’s like now there’s a big hole in my life where you used to be.

“You know I dreamed of you last night? Well, I dream of you a lot. Not like that!” Barry held up his hands as if there was someone there to poke fun of the sexual nature of his words, or to make fun of the way he was turning nine shades of red. “I mean, usually they end as a nightmare. You dying, with all the blood and the, you know,” Barry paused to clear his throat, “the words. But it was a good dream last night. It was the night you caught the mugger who took Iris’s bag.

“Did you feel it?” Barry paused, half-expecting an answer from the grass, the dirt, the stone, the sky, anything that was listening. “That night, when we locked eyes across the station, did you feel it? That want, the lust, the electricity? Did you get lost in me the way I got lost in you? I need to know, Ed.”

He smiled, but his eyes were welling up with tears. “I felt you falling, Ed. How could you do that and then go back home with her? You know, part of me is so mad at you for letting me fall right back for you, and a whole other part of me is mad at you for putting Iris through that. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? I’m the one who put you six feet under, I don’t get to be mad at you.”

Barry sighed, leaning forward enough that his forehead was resting against the top of the stone. It felt cold, and a little moist, and he could practically feel the grime sinking into his pores. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m struggling to say goodbye. It would be a hell of a lot easier if you were here, Ed.” Barry brushed his hand against the name on the headstone, raised bumps on rocks doing nothing to honor the memory of one of Central City’s finest.

Finally, the pull of sleep got to him and he drifted off in the darkness, not knowing whether or not he had a guardian angel watching over him. Perhaps the fact that he had dreamless sleep for the first time in a month was evident enough. He woke up a few hours later to the sound of his phone alarm and sped away to get ready for work.


	4. If It Were Anyone But You Doing That, It’d Be Creepy

For the next week and a half, sleeping at the grave became a regular thing. So regular that the budding grass had become a bit worn down, and the time when Barry woke up from a dream and sped over to the graveyard became earlier and earlier until one Friday night, he skipped the bed altogether and curled up by the tombstone, a thick sweater and newly purchased thick pair of sweatpants his only defense against the cold. It was fine. Barry ran warm anyways. He had a hat waiting for him in his closet back home, but he couldn’t bring himself to wear it.

After coming every night for over a week, Barry began to notice the regulars — an old man who brought a book to read aloud every night, the woman a few rows over who had taken to a silent vigil over her person’s grave. It seems that somehow, the graveyard was more alive at night than it ever was in the daytime. Maybe that’s just because nighttime is when the loneliness hits the hardest.

He didn’t have work the next morning, so he didn’t bother setting his alarm as he settled in to sleep, back against the grave, head between his knees, stretched out in front of him. Eddie used to always comment about how lanky he was. 

This was better. Feeling his presence in the ground, right under where Barry stood, yet not needing to face his name, face reality as soon as he woke.

As he started to drift off, he found that somehow, he felt safest right there, with the same Earth that cradled Eddie cradling him, like kindred souls. He recalled drifting off in Eddie’s arms, a cocoon of warmth, and he was out like a light.

The next thing he heard was a voice calling his name. Following that? An incessant poking in his side.

“Bear. Barry. Bartholomew Henry Allen!” The shout was what got him and he abruptly opened his eyes, coming face to face with another set of curious looming eyes on him. It took fighting every instinct in him to not flash away as he took a moment to take in his surroundings. If Oliver taught him nothing else with his two arrows in the back, he had taught him this.

He was sitting on grass. Grass? And what was that weight against his back? Oh, right, the graveyard. That he had been sleeping in. That Iris was standing in right now. In front of him. Oh god, Iris caught him sleeping at Eddie’s grave. Sometimes, he wondered how such a brilliant girl could be naive enough to not see what was right in front of her all along.

“Bear, you okay?” Iris must have caught some of the panic in his expression — she really did know him too well — and leaned back, dropping her hands from where they had been resting, on his right shoulder and left knee. Both parts of his body felt cold when she withdrew. She was still crouching in front of him, cataloguing his every move with her journalist eyes, but there was enough space between them that he could breathe.

“Iris! Um, what are you doing here?” Barry cleared his throat, hoping his morning breath wouldn’t stink up the air between them. Of all the things to worry about, that was the thing he fixated on. God, he was digging a deeper and deeper hole.

Maybe he shouldn’t be making hole puns in a graveyard.

“Visiting my fiancé, um, ex-fiancé’s grave, like I do every Saturday.” She cleared her throat, her eyes finding a particularly interesting spot on the ground. “I can only really stomach it one day a week, but I don’t want him to feel like I’m neglecting him, you know?”

Barry’s face fell. How could he have been fixated on the fact that Iris found him, without even considering all the pain she was going through?

“Iris, I’m so sorry,” Barry started. This time, he was the one to reach out, try to place a comforting arm on her shoulder, only to have her swiftly dodge his touch and push herself up, with a grace he could remember envying for years.

“It’s okay, really. I’m fine. I don’t need your pity. Not like you were here to offer it before.” Her tone was harsh and her eyes were starting to shine, everything about the way she held herself indicated that this was not okay. Barry winced at her words slightly and she sighed, dropping her bag and sinking down to sit beside him, dirt staining her black jeans. “I invited you before, and you never came. You knew I always came Saturdays. Why didn’t you join me before?”

The question wasn’t as harsh as her previous statements. She sounded curious rather than judgmental. Barry peeled his back off of the tombstone and rolled his neck to get any cricks out. He slid over and to the side, putting an acceptable amount of distance between him and the grave, and allowing Iris to occupy the space next to him, pay her dues.

“I’m here now, doesn’t that count for something?”

Iris hummed noncommittally, and they both left out the fact that neither of them had been expecting the company. Barry looked away to give Iris a moment of semi-privacy, examining the grass beneath his crossed legs, just starting to bud in the recently turned over dirt. He hoped that he would be there when it grew to be full and luscious. He pulled a small piece out of the ground, no longer that his index fingernail, and immediately felt guilty, shoving it back into the ground.

“He kind of became your best friend, didn’t he?” Iris said a few minutes into their silence.  Other than me, she left unsaid, and Barry knew it, knew they would always have a place in each other’s lives. Still, it was his turn to nod and hum noncommittally, not meeting her eyes.

They sat in silence for a couple more minutes before she spoke again. “Did you dream about your mom? You know, after she died?”

Barry swallowed hard, wringing his hands together in his lap. It took him a moment to find the voice to speak. “Yeah, I did. All the time. I dreamt about the good times we had, but I also dreamt about, you know, the, um, man in yellow.” He paused, took a deep breath, feeling Iris’s gaze on his side the whole time. He couldn’t meet her eyes. “I dream about Eddie now, too, sometimes.”

He chanced a glance over at Iris, half-expecting anger, hurt, betrayal, hell, even for her to smack him in the face and walk away. But as he met her eyes, he wasn’t expecting her to be looking at him like that, biting her lip as her eyes welled up and watching him like he said the perfect thing. He opened his arm and she all but fell into his side, burying her face in his shoulder. He felt her sobs more than heard them.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Barry rubbing a comforting arm around her own and simply offering her his shoulder to cry on. Eventually, her breathing no longer sounded like asthmatic wheezing, and she leaned back, wiping her eyes of the back of the black sweater she wore. The tears were still leaking out of her eyes, but they weren’t as desperate.

“I’m a, God, I’m a mess, Bear,” she whispered as she laid her head down on his shoulder now, erratic breathing starting to fall into something resembling a rhythm. He was all too aware of the parallels between this and his encounter with Oliver twelve days ago. “I don’t sleep, I hardly eat. I never realized how much his presence was around, was everywhere, until he’s not here anymore. You know yesterday, I had a fucking panic attack because I found one of his socks?” Iris barked out a laugh, humorless. “Iris West, great reporter, brought down by a dress sock.”

Iris dove back into his embrace and he welcomed it, tucking her into his side like she was made to be there and letting her rest her head on his bony shoulder. He wrapped his right arm around her back and laid his head on top of hers, the smell of her shampoo and the earthy smell from the ground mixing in his nose and feeling a lot like home. 

“When Eddie first joined the precinct,” Barry began, feeling emboldened, “before you met him, he was put on this case that I was doing the forensics for. A couple of small, convenience store robberies. Nothing too crazy. It was his first arrest in Central City, said my notes really helped him figure out the guy’s next target. So the next day, I come into work, and he’s standing by my desk all excited, and he thrusts a hat in my face. That’s the day I learned that Detective Pretty Boy liked to knit.”

Iris giggled against his side, Barry feeling the vibrations more than anything. He chuckled along with her slightly. It felt good to remember the good moments with Eddie, considering all the bad images that haunted his mind.

Iris’s laughter died down, and she pulled away from him slightly to look at Barry. “I didn’t know he knew how to knit. He never told me.” Her brow was scrunched up in confusion, and she was watching Barry with the most puzzled look. 

“Iris?” he ventured.

“It’s weird, hearing about all these sides of him that I’ll never know. Hearing about all the people who miss him, how they saw him. Kind of snaps me out of my daze, huh? Makes me realize that I’m not the only one grieving.”

Iris paused for a minute, before reaching up and cupping Barry’s cheek with her hand. “You must miss him too, don’t you?” She said, as gentle as the touch of her palm barely meeting his face.

It took all of two seconds for Barry’s resolve to break, for him to burst out in tears and for Iris to coach him into her arms, both teary-eyed and a little bit broken. But there, as Barry held his sister in his arms, he realized that maybe there would be time for them to heal. Together.


	5. I’d Rather Be With Leonard Snart Right Now And That Says Something

They were walking back to Joe’s place, which was entirely not Barry’s first choice of places to go. In fact, it was pretty low on the list at the moment, somewhere above wherever-the-hell Leonard Snart was and below dealing with Singh’s wrath on his day off. In fact, Barry would have been happy to go into work an extra day, if it weren’t for Iris’s persistence and the damn puppy dog eyes. He may not have still been in love with her, but damn it if she didn’t know how to play him.

Barry knew that Joe wouldn’t be at work, and he knew that Iris knew that, and he also knew that zombie ants were a thing but none of that information was helping him right now.

They were a block away and Barry could see his last chances of escape drifting away. “Maybe I should just—“

“I’m sorry for not trying harder!” Iris blurted out, interrupting him. He paused, his step faltering only a little as he looked over at her. She still had more to say. “After the, um, after the singularity. I should have tried harder to not let you become so also and so lonely.”

Barry sighed, halting his steps altogether and turning to face Iris. She mimicked the move. “You were grieving, Iris. I’m the one who’s sorry. You were grieving and I wasn’t there for you.”

“You were grieving too, Bear,” Iris started. “He used to talk about you all the time. You guys loved each other too, in a different way admittedly, but you get to grieve him too. Everybody thinks that you’re going on some guilt rampage but I know you, Bear. I was there when your mother died, and I know that you’re pushing us away because you’re hurting and you don’t know how to deal with it.”

“You know as well as I do that—“

“That this is all your fault? That you were faced with an impossible temptation and somehow you came back to us? That something you never could have expected happened, and you gave everything to fix it?” Iris raised an eyebrow and Barry opened his mouth, only to close it again when Iris continued talking. “I have a feeling that you’ll need to hear this, so here it is. I forgive you, even though you did nothing wrong. Barry Allen, you are absolved of your sins. I’d throw holy water at you if I could.”

Barry smiled and his vision blurred as he blinked back tears. Somehow, he felt a whole weight lifted off of his shoulders. He took a couple of shuddering breaths and Iris stood watching with an understanding smile.

“C’mon, let’s go say hi to Joe. I’m sure he’ll have a harder time forgiving you for missing work.”

“He’ll be holding that over my head until his deathbed,“ Barry joked, his voice coming out a bit hoarse. He cleared it, looking down at his shoes for a moment before looking back at Iris. She smiled at him, extending her arm towards him in a downwards right angle, and Barry accepted, linking elbows his her. If he used his superspeed to wipe a couple of tears away from his face, Iris didn’t mention it.

“Hey Joe? I’m home!” Iris called out as they entered the house. Their elbows were unlinked but she grabbed hold of his hand as they entered, half expecting him to flash out of there. She wasn’t wrong to think so, with his track record. Once the door was safely locked behind them, she let go of Barry’s hand to take off her brown coat, as if a couple of locks could prevent him from leaving.

“In here, baby girl!” came Joe’s reply from the kitchen. Motioning for Barry to follow, Iris made her way towards the kitchen. 

“Hey dad?” Iris asked, leaning in the doorway. Barry stood upright beside her, hands clasped together in front of him like an obedient schoolboy. Or a terrified one.

“You need something?” Joe asked, turning around, dropping the greens he was washing into a bowl in the sink. He did a double take a Barry, eyes lingering on him for a minute as if afraid he would disappear, but then just as quickly, he regained his composure. “Hey Bear, I was just making lunch. Do you want to stay?”

“No! It’s okay!” Barry was quick to reject the idea. He winced, realizing how his words probably sounded. “I mean, I would love to have lunch with you. It’s just, you probably only made enough food for you guys and you know I eat a lot. Besides, I don’t want to impose. This is your time. I was just dropping Iris off. In fact, I can just see myself out now. See you on Monday, Joe!”

Barry started to walk towards the door, which was a big mistake. He should have flashed out when he had the chance. Iris reached out and clamped her hand down on his wrist, tugging him back to his post beside her. He yelped and stumbled into her before regaining his balance, but she didn’t waver.

“I think he means he’d love to,” Iris said, pinching the skin between his thumb and first finger like when they were kids.

Joe laughed, smiling at Barry. “Don’t worry, you used to live here, remember? I know how to deal with your appetite.”

Barry glanced at the floor, fixating his gaze at the spot where tile met the kitchen island, the same floor he had walked over countless of times growing up. Finally, he looked up at Iris and Joe. “I guess I could stay,” he conceded.

They made polite conversation as they helped Joe, Barry chopping everything at regular speed. He could be done in a second, but something about the moment made Barry want to crawl into and lay there forever.

“Hey Barry?” Iris asked as they set the table, Joe off in the kitchen. 

Barry hummed in reply. Iris put her stack of plates down on the table and looked across the table at him, playing with the table cloth. Barry, sensing the change in tone, placed his utensils down and looked at her.

“Next time you feel like sleeping with someone, you can always call me. You’ve got a perfectly serviceable room here,” Iris gestured upstairs, “or Eddie could always use the extra company, right?”

How much longer could Barry go without telling her the truth?

His face must have dropped, because Iris looked distraught in return. “You know, Joe’s trying his best, but I’ve been really lonely these past few months. I can’t lose my fiancé and my best friend.”

“Saturday.”

“What?”

“Next Saturday. I’m visiting. I’ve got the day off. Do you want to, um,” Barry cleared his throat, finishing with a hopeful smile. “Do you want to come with me?”

Iris smiled at him. “I’d love to, Barry..”

Barry grabbed his utensils and Iris grabbed her plates, continuing to set the table, just as Joe came out with two plates of food. Perhaps Joe’s perfect timing could be attributed to his fatherly intuition, or simply Joe listening in from behind the kitchen door. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got three more plates in the kitchen,“ Joe mentioned to Barry as he placed the two plates of tacos on the table. 

“Thanks, Joe,” Barry smiled at him, and they all sat down to eat.

As they ate, they moved around a variety of different topics, catching one another up on their lives. It had been a while since they had all sat down for a family dinner, a meal that used to happen weekly now nonexistent. As time progressed, Barry found himself becoming more and more relaxed. He mentally noted to himself to come around sometime next week.

“Hey Bear, you heard about the Flash Day coming up?”

Barry’s eyes widened at Joe’s words. He paused, a bite of taco half-raised to his face. Hastily, he shoved the taco into his mouth then began to speak, specks of food flying out as the substance obscured his words. “No, haven’t heard of it,” he spit out quickly. It was either that, or “Bo, heaven hurts a bit,” Iris decided, but the first one made a lot more sense in context.

“Surely you’ve seen the signs around the precinct,” Joe reasoned, pointing his fork at Barry. “They’re impossible to miss.”

“I guess I’ve just been a bit busy,” Barry lied. Joe just nodded.

“I’ll be writing an article about it in the papers, you know. I’ll be right at the front., so don’t think about skipping it.” Iris butted in, her tone affecting an air of casual they all knew was nonsense. Neither she nor Joe had the guts to say what they were dancing around, and Barry knew it, hoping neither of them would mention it. “I’ve got lots of ideas for articles, actually,” Iris continued.

“Like what?” Barry asked, hoping to get off the subject.

“I heard that businesses destroyed in the Singularity were being rebuilt overnight.” Iris paused, scratching her chin in a dramatic manner. “I wonder what construction company is fast enough to be rebuilding entire buildings overnight?”

“Iris,” Joe chastised.

“Anyways, my article will be giving out thanks to the anonymous contractor, but it’ll also be reminding them that while the people of Central City are grateful, this mysterious person doesn’t need to be rebuilding everything because they feel guilty about the Singularity.” Iris was looking directly at Barry. 

Barry shoved his plate away from himself and pushed himself away from the table, chair scanning against the floor. “I think I’m going to go now. If you had warned me that this would just be an attack, maybe I wouldn’t have come.”

“Barry–”

“Don’t.” Iris had stood up and reached over the table in an attempt to grab his wrist, hoping it would prevent him from speeding away. “And don’t ask me about whether or not I’m going to the event. I haven’t decided yet, but even if I did, you know damn well better than anyone that I’m not the hero of Central City.”

Barry walked out of the house and closed the door gently behind him; even though he was mad, he knew better than to slam doors and throw tantrums. Still, he was walking at normal speed. A part of him half expected either Iris or Joe to come running out after him. He wasn’t sure which he would have preferred, or if either would be welcome, but the fact that he lingered at the corner of the block for a full sixty seconds before speeding away said more than enough. He felt lonely though, shoving two recreated, and frankly disgusting, calorie bars down with a glass of milk and lounging around the apartment for the rest of the day, apart from a couple of fires. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to pick up the phone and call any of the few people who could make this any less lonely.

When he checked his phone, before settling in for the night in his own bed, unnaturally soft under his body, there was one text from Joe. 

“It’s been six months, Bear. When you gonna come home?”


	6. Even Superman Has A Side Job

Sleep was restless, and broken up by periods of awake, of tears and screaming and throwing a lightning bolt at a cushion on the floor, setting it on fire. Still, he did not visit the cemetery, and his phone gathers dust with disuse. 

***

The crime scene was especially gruesome for 8am on a Sunday morning, and that fact that Barry can even think that shows just how many gruesome crime scenes he’s encountered. Still, as he crouched next to the dead body gathering evidence, he couldn’t help but feel a tug in his stomach. The dead man looked peaceful as he lay there, almost content.

Barry realized where he’d seen blond hair like that before.

“How’s it going?” Joe asked, strolling over to Barry. Joe stopped on the other side of the dead body, looking down on them both.

“Hey!” Barry cringed inwardly at how awkward things were between him and Joe, after Barry’ six months of neglect and then running out on lunch. Still, Joe’s voice had snapped him out of his thoughts, which he was grateful for. “Um, good. How are you doing?”

“Good!” Joe was pretending to be overly chipper, as if nothing were wrong. A martyr for his children, as always. Joe switched over to work mode, the only way they knew how to interact these days. “So, the victim. His name is Al Rothstein. He’s a welder here at the nuclear plant. Coworker found his this morning.”

After they established that a very large and strong person – or creature, Grodd seemed to have a penchant for returning at inopportune moments – had strangled the victim, Joe brought up the Flash Day thing again, albeit a little less intensely than Iris. 

“So, this Flash Day thing,” Joe said as he started to rise from the crouching position he had taken next to Barry, “I hope you’re planning on making an appearance.”

Barry buckled up his forensics kit and stood. “Um, I haven’t decided.”

“Bear, I heard the mayor’s trying to give you a key to the city.” 

“Yeah, I don’t need an award.” Barry shook his head in denial. 

“Bear, you love getting awards!” Joe became exasperated. “Like all those science trophies you got in high school”

“Those I deserved,” Barry said simply, shifting his weight. He stepped back, over the body, and started to leave the crime scene. “I’ll let you know what I find, alight?“ He said, effectively cutting off the conversation and swiftly fleeing the scene. Barry would make a great criminal. It didn’t matter, though; he already felt like one.

***

He had been putting off fixing up Jitters for weeks now, knowing the memories he had in there, with all of his friends, with Iris, with Joe, with  Eddie . Needless to say, as he stole away on nights he couldn’t sleep, he had been fixing up every other tarnished place within blocks of the place. While there had been a decrease in his productivity since he started sleeping on Eddie’s grave,  selfish as his mind provided him, it was time for him to stop avoiding this place like the plague.

He let this mind wander as he worked. Usually, these little fix-me-up sessions only served to remind him of how selfish he was, and he never really felt any better by the end. It was his own form of self-flagellation, in a way.

His mind drifted to the next day’s event; surely if the city had known that it was all his fault, if they knew about the unsung heroes of that day, they wouldn’t be giving a key to the city to him. Surely no one who did know could be expecting him to go, could they?

“I can hear you thinking from over here,” a voice called out from behind him. Barry turned around to face the newcomer. “I got the scoop from a certain reporter that businesses were being rebuilt overnight. Had to check it out for myself.”

“I knew giving Iris your number was a bad idea,” Barry cursed under his breath, but he couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face.

“To be fair, I wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t.” Oliver had on a grey sweater stretched over his broad shoulders and he had his hands tucked into his pockets as he made his way over to Barry. “I like what you’re doing with the place. If the whole, lonesome hero thing doesn’t work out, you’ve always got construction.”

“Ollie,” Barry whined, crossing his arms, a giant slab of wood still in one hand.. “What, you came 600 miles to yell at me?”

“I came six hundred miles to tell you that the solitude never works out. Believe me, I’d know.”

Half of Barry wanted to shake Oliver, tell him to wake up and see all the destruction Barry had caused. Hell, they were literally standing in it. The other part of him, however, was just overwhelmed by the fact that Oliver was so close. Barry had the urge to just throw his hands around Oliver’s shoulders, bury his nose in his neck and get lost in his comforting embrace for days. Theoretically, he was fast enough to do it without Oliver even knowing, but he also respected the older man’s boundaries when it came to physical space.

“Well, thank you for the advice, but I seem to be doing fine on my own.” Barry let some of the annoyance of the first part of him seep into his words, if for no other reason that to hide the latter.

“Just tell me this, why did you push everyone away?” Barry crooked an eyebrow at Oliver and Oliver’s face broke out into something close to a smile. “Oh, I know, I just want to hear you say it.”

Barry sighed. “Everyone around me is worse off because of it. So, I did the least selfish thing I have done in a very long time: I left.”

“Do you really think that the people around you, hell, the city, is better off without you?”

“Without me, there’d be no singularity.”

“Without you, there’d be no one to stop Reverse Flash.”

“Without me, Reverse Flash wouldn’t even be here, in this timeline.”

“Without you, I’d be lying dead on a slab of metal in the Arrow Cave because Felicity sure as hell didn’t know to feed me rat poison when I was already poisoned.” Oliver’s words were getting louder as he got more passionate, and Barry let him speak. “And that wasn’t the Flash. That was Barry Allen. I know the danger you are putting the people you love in by knowing them as the Flash but they also miss the Barry Allen they knew. You can’t push everyone away because you’re feeling guilty and you’re grieving. Tell me, do you respect your friends? Your team?”

“Of course.”

“Then why won’t you let them make their own decisions about whether or not they want to be a part of the team?”

Barry opened and closed his mouth, once, twice, before settling with his mouth closed. He crooked his mouth into a half-smile before speaking. “When did you get so wise?”

Oliver smiled back at him. “Does that mean you’ll go tomorrow to the event?” Oliver reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded and creased piece of paper. Upon unfolding it, Barry saw that it was the flier for Flash Day.

“That means I’ll pay Cisco a visit with some Red Vines. That does not mean I’ll be going to an event and let everyone honor the man who destroyed Central City. This city deserves better than that, than me.”

“Barry, you gotta be kidding me.” Oliver let out a small, disbelieving chuckle before continuing. “Look, Barry, it doesn’t matter what or who Central City deserves. What they’ve got is you. So far, you’re about it. Now, all those people? They’ve put a lot of faith in you. So you can either live up to the man they are expecting you to be, or you can hide out in here and be a coward. But the choice,” Oliver said, slipping the flier into Barry’s hand, Barry’s skin burning from where he touched it, “is up to you.”

Barry watched as Oliver turned to leave Jitters, and somehow, he felt more unsure about himself than before. “Wait!” Barry called out, before Oliver stepped out the door. Barry watched as Oliver paused in his steps.

“Yes, Barry?”

“You’re just going to leave without a hug?”

Oliver turned back to look at Barry, giving him a glare without any heat in it. “I’m upset with you,“ he said carefully. If this was in a different moment, he would be giving Oliver a thumbs up and a fist bump for talking about his feelings so explicitly, but one thing at a time.

“I’m fast enough to do it without you knowing.” Barry placed the paper down on a nearby counter and held his hands out in what he hoped was a welcoming manner. 

Oliver sighed, eventually conceding as he made his way over to Barry, wrapping his arms around Barry’s waist as Barry wrapped his own around Oliver’s neck. Oliver had been planning to briefly pat Barry on the back and then leave, but something about the younger man’s grip on his sweater at the back of his neck, or the smell of wood and metal and ozone filling his lungs, that made him hold on tighter far longer than he would have with any other person who wasn’t Thea.

Oliver had a secret. He didn’t hate hugs, not when they were from a certain speedster friend of his.

Eventually, something in the air shifted and the two men parted, Barry not wanting to make anything weird or to scare Oliver away by being too clingy. He watched as Oliver left the shop and only then did he grab the flier he had left on the counter behind him. His mind was muddled as he ran through the rest of the construction, returned home for a blanket, and curled up in a familiar groove in front of a familiar slab of stone, cold. 


	7. The Weird and the Wacky

Captain Singh had been nice enough to let Barry come in late so that he could go to the Flash Day event. Granted, he’s convinced that Singh only let him do that because the older man knew of Barry’s connection to the Flash – if only he knew exactly how close that bond was. Still, even if Singh’s reasons were all about having some connection with the Flash, Barry still got the morning off and that’s how he had ended up here.

He wasn’t hiding behind some bushes, per se. He readjusted his black ball-cap low on his face, on the off chance that someone he knew saw him, and then used both his hands to tug his black jeans jacket further over his shoulders, a protective barrier. He felt dumb in the flash t-shirt, but he wanted to blend in. If anyone saw him then, they wouldn’t know it was him, from the all black, down to black skinny jeans and combat boots he totally borrowed from Iris. Although, looking down at himself, he was definitely pulling off the goth look, and Iris wouldn’t miss these with all the shoes she had, would she? Her large feet were definitely coming in handy, not that he would ever tell her that.

He watched as Joe and Cisco sat, both leaning against the hood of a car. Joe looked like he belonged, a foot against the front bumper. Cisco, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to decide how much to lean against the car. He leaned back nearly all the way, back almost touching the hood of the car, before pulling himself upright and nodding at Joe in an extremely uncoordinated way. Barry smiled from behind the bush. He had missed Cisco and all of his antics. He still had to make good on his promise to take him out for lunch one day.

He looks over to the other side and notices Caitlin there, black biker jacket over a bright red flash shirt. Still, he’d recognize those brown locks and strawberry lips almost anywhere. “Holy hell,” he whispered to himself.

Tearing his gaze away from her face, he turned back to Cisco and Joe. He watched as Joe spoke, Cisco nodding in agreement, and Barry felt a little left out.

“Funny catching you here.” Oliver’s voice came from behind him, and Barry jumped slightly at the low sound rumbling through him. He turned around to see Oliver dressed in a similar manner to Barry, at least with the hat and the flash shirt. It took an extreme amount of will-power to not burst out laughing at the sight, before remembering where he was, a festival for a false god. That killed the giggles real quickly.

“How’d you know it was me?” Barry crossed his arms over his chest.

Oliver shrugged. “There’s nothing I can say here that won’t sound creepy and frankly, a little rude.”

Barry gave him a non-impressed look. “I’m a forensic scientist. Try me.“

“There are scuff marks on the edge of your boots consistent with extreme wear, likely from running. Nice boots, by the way.” Oliver finished with a smile, testing him. Not falling into the whim, Barry just smiled back.

“Never would have guessed Oliver Queen was that smart. Or that he attended these sorts of low-life events.” Barry gestured around him. The event was anything but lowlife; the mayor was presenting him with the key to the city. Still, this was nothing compared to the galas and fancy parties Oliver was likely used to, with hors devours. Barry had read about those, hadn’t he?

“Well, heard this Flash guy is pretty big. You know I met him once?”

“Oh really? Hope you didn’t hurt him too bad.” Barry could feel his shoulders tingle from the arrows that had embedded in his back.

“Naw. He’s the best guy I know.” Oliver smiled at Barry and holy shit was that radiant. Barry was pretty sure he had never seen Oliver smile like that before, like he was full of pure joy, not weighed down by everything else in the world. Barry knew an equal expression was mirror on his face, but he broke eye contact, glancing down at his feet. Oliver just clapped him on the shoulder. “Got to get to the front. I don’t want to miss the show.”

Barry’s shoulder honest to god burned from Oliver’s touch, and he hoped his shiver wasn’t noticeable, or at least attributable to the cold. He watched as Oliver slid away, weaving between people in the crowd with the grace and power of a jaguar. Barry watched him until he lost track of him, and then his eyes started scanning through the crowd in the vague hope of finding him. Eventually, he had to give up his search as the mayor started speaking. He hovered at the edge, listening through the speakers and watching through the screens set up.

“Good morning Central City!” The mayor stood at the podium. The crowd cheered at his words, but eventually died out. “A year ago, our world changed. Our city became ground zero for some pretty weird stuff.”

Barry watched as Joe honest to god giggled at that, having been at the frontlines of dealing with the weird and the wacky.

“We got a new breed of criminals: men and women who defied not only our laws, but physics and reason.”

Barry knew that Cisco was muttering an “amen” under his breath at that. Barry could relate; the scientist in him had been in a permanent state of screaming since he had woken up from that coma. 

“But we got something else, too. We got the Flash!” The mayor held up his arm, pointing to the giant banner behind him, a large lightning emblem. The crowd cheered and Barry felt sick to his stomach. “Our wounds run deep, and I know many of you are afraid of the threats at what tomorrow might bring. But the Flash doesn’t just protect us. He restores hope where it was lost.”

Barry looked over at Caitlin, also hovering towards the back, and felt a pang in his chest. Caitlin, Iris, they had some of the deepest wounds out of everyone. Barry watched Caitlin, standing tall, and he felt a pang of undeserved pride in his chest. He didn’t give her hope; he had taken it away from her and she found the hope in herself to keep going.

“That’s why I’m honored to present the key to the many who saved Central City: the Flash!“ The mayor held the key up in both hands, smiling as the crowd cheered, and Barry felt even more disgusting inside. The man who saved Central City? That wasn’t him. He was the man who brought havoc on Central City because of his own selfish desires. He listened the applause died out, watched as Joe and Cisco shared an all too knowing look.

And then, like in one of those cheesy movies, Oliver’s words came ringing in his head.  So you can either live up to the man they are expecting you to be, or you can hide out in here and be a coward. But the choice is up to you.

Barry quickly changed and sped onto the stage, only then taking a moment to look out at the crowd. He could feel the mayor’s gaze on him, the gaze of half of half of Central City, but there was one face he was searching for. There, in the second row, Oliver stood there, beaming at him.

Barry felt completely out of place on that stage, looking out at countless people wearing his sign on their chests like it gave them pride. Still, he took slow and awkward steps towards the mayor. He found Iris at the front too, gave her a nod and watched as she returned his gesture. He knew that in that crowd were countless people counting on him, both as the Flash and as Barry Allen. He was making steps toward deserving their hope, their pride, their reliance on him. 

“The doors to Central City will forever be open to you, Flash,” the mayor said as he presented the key to Barry, and Barry nodded, knowing that he will be spending the rest of his days as the Flash living up to deserving that.

That, of course, was when everything went shit.

***

As soon as the suspicious-looking man had bumped into him, Oliver knew there was going to be trouble.

When Barry hadn’t showed up at first, Oliver had been devastated. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was so invested in Barry’s life, but it likely stemmed from the fact that there were so few people out there that could understand his lifestyle. In fact, he knew exactly what Barry was going through. Maybe a part of him didn’t want the younger man to experience all the pain he knew, from experience, came with a solitary vigilante mission.

When Barry did finally make it onto the stage though — if only the city knew the irony of the Flash arriving late — Oliver couldn’t take his own eyes off of him. He looked so gangly and awkward up there, like a puppy outside of his cage, his eyes wide in disbelief at the crowd that gathered.

He was adorable, his mind supplied, as he chanted “Flash!” over and over again. Oliver kindly told his mind to fuck off.

But Barry meeting his eyes, somehow finding him in a sea of people? That second of eye contact made his stomach twist in ways he’d rather not think about.

As soon as the suspicious-looking man bumped into him, though, he had to tear his attention away from Barry and toward the threat at hand. He could see it in the way the man held himself, covered his face: he meant no good. Oliver could have been wrong, but better to be safe than to be sorry. He made his way toward the side of the crowd, where he had stored a duffel bag with his bow and uniform (no, Barry, it was not a costume, he wasn’t a little kid on Halloween, thank you very much).

He’d just changed when a food cart is thrown at Barry and the mayor. Oliver watched in horror as the cart came too close to hitting Barry before Barry flashed himself and the mayor to safety. Sprinting, Oliver took off in the direction where Barry went, to the entrance to the park. Oliver’s only consolation as he ran was that he had seen Joe and Cisco there earlier, when he came in.

When he got there, he watched as Barry peeled himself off the top of a car and he saw red.

“Hey! Over here!” He shouted, hoping to draw enough attention away for Barry to recover. He notched three arrows and fired, all of them aiming at lethal parts. The first two bounced off of the metahuman’s odd armor, and the third was deflected with a metal shield on the metahuman’s arm. Notching the next two, he let them fly.

The metahuman was able to deflect the one aiming at his foolishly exposed chin, but what he didn’t see was the arrow that sunk itself into the metahuman’s thigh. He sunk to one knee, letting out a scream of pain, and Oliver prepared to go over there, yank off the helmet, and make sure the fucker was dead before he could sing Yankee Doodle.

What he didn’t prepare for was the metahuman yanking the arrow out of his thigh with a bloody pull, tossing it to the side, throwing it right back at Oliver.

Oliver dodged it by a hair. “You all good?” Barry asked him, materializing at his side.

“I should be asking you that,” Oliver retorted, notching arrow after arrow that the metahuman seemed to keep deflecting. So the bastard learned his lesson after the first time. “Joe and Cisco?”

“Sent them away. Cisco’s boot didn’t work.” Barry was gasping as he darting in to deliver punches before rapidly pulling back in order to not get punched himself. Oliver would be asking about what this boot was if they didn’t have more pressing matters at hand. “Hold on, I’ve got an idea.”

With that, Barry sped away, leaving Oliver alone with this giant fucking metahuman-man.

“Hold on, he says,” Oliver grumbled under his breath. He would be running out of arrows soon, at this rate. He ducked to the left as a deflected arrow almost hit him. “As if I’ve been doing something else for the past five minutes.”

Oliver felt a whoosh of air and Barry was in front of him, holding up two large canisters of some sort of fuel. “I throw, you shoot?“ Barry asked, smile painting his face. Oliver could see the hope in his eyes, even through the mask.

In lieu of a response, Oliver turned toward the metahuman and notched two arrows, getting ready to let them go. As Barry threw the containers, Oliver let the arrows fly just in time to let the containers explode on the metahuman. The next thing Oliver knew, he was on the ground, with a pair of skinny arms around him.

“Are you okay?” Oliver did a quick survey of first Barry, then himself, to see if there were any injuries. He winced as he saw that Barry had a piece of metal stuck in his leg. The arms around his waist were gone as both Oliver and Barry pushed themselves up, Barry breathing heavy and Oliver reaching for his quiver. Great. He was out of arrows. He looked over to the metahuman, expecting him to be passed out cold on the ground.

Oliver watched as this absolute fucker staggered upright, his mask opening up to reveal his face for a brief moment before the  absolute fucking asshole  just upright  fucking ran away.

“Ollie,” Barry’s disbelieving voice caught his attention, as he turned back to face Barry’s wincing face, “that was Al Rothstein. I was there where he was murdered. This morning, he was dead.”

At this point, Barry could tell him that Jesus had come down from Heaven and was leading all dogs into Hell and he would believe it, with the way this city was going. “Come on, Bear,” Oliver said, bracing himself to get up and then offering both of his arms to Barry, “let’s get you fixed up.”

He pulled Barry up, Barry leaning on him as they limped towards Star labs. He smelled like sweat and dirt and that familiar ozone smell, like fire, like something inside of him was cooking. Eventually, they found Joe while walking along the street, and he offered them a ride to Star labs before Barry’s flesh healed around the shrapnel and it would be a whole other pain to take it out. Barry would never admit to it during waking moments, but Oliver’s shoulder made a nice pillow was his last thought as he drifted into a tired sleep in the back of the police cruiser.


	8. Damn, I Really Hate Lawyers

“You know zombies exist in nature?” It was hard to think that only an hour ago, Barry was screaming into a pillow as Oliver pulled a piece of shrapnel out of his healing leg. And that just an hour before that, he was being offered a key to the city, and then thrown into a battle with a zombie. Now, he strolled back to work, knowing that Singh would want him back on his lab or out casing the event as soon as lunchtime was over. Still, he was enjoying the quiet walk back to the precinct. He always ran places; he didn’t walk enough anymore.

“What are you trying to suggest, Barry?” At this point, Oliver just sounded tired. Barry could sympathize. Maybe he’d let Oliver catch a catnap in his office. Just this once, though. He couldn’t make it a habit of keeping distractions there when he actually had to do work.

“I’m not suggesting anything,  Ollie ,” Barry said in a mocking tone, “I’m just saying, if zombie ants can be a thing, maybe zombie humans can be, too.”

“This feels like something I saw out of a movie, once,” Oliver muttered, dazedly, as if he was trying to recall something. Barry left it alone. 

“Well, I mean, chances are you’ve seen at least one bad zombie movie. You’re probably thinking of that. Anyways, we’ll know more when we get to the precinct. I’ve got a contact at the morgue who can get me quick insider info.”

“You’ve got a contact at the morgue?” Oliver gave Barry a bemused smile and there was a hint at the man Barry know so well. Surprisingly, tired Oliver was a happy one.

“Oh yeah, Cynthia’s a doll. I bake her a batch of cookies for her birthday every year. Probably the only reason she keeps me around.”

“She your girlfriend or something?” Oliver had been going for casual but his tone came out more clipped than he had hoped. “Not that it’s any of my business, or anything.”

“Hey Ollie?”

“Yeah?”

“She’s 92.”

Barry watched as Oliver’s face morphed into something akin to embarrassment, before laughing his brains out. He grabbed onto Oliver’s arm for stability, giving Oliver the dignity of not photographing the absolutely adorable blush scattering across his cheeks. 

“I’m sure she’s lovely, if you want to go for it,” Oliver mumbled in a quite, in Barry’s opinion, pathetic attempt at a joke. Barry just squeezed his biceps, and holy damn were Oliver’s muscles huge as hell, and smiled at him.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about making a move, but I’m just too shy, you know?”

Oliver’s face got really deep for a second, and Barry almost missed the reply he muttered under his breath.

“I do.”

Pushing the implications of a statement like that out of his mind, Barry tugged them around the corner, finally getting to the police station. He let go of Oliver’s arm to walk ahead, pushing open the glass doors and holding them open. It was only then did he realize his problem.

“You coming?” Barry stuck his head back outside, still holding the door open with his foot. Oliver just stuck his hands into his pockets. 

“I didn’t want to intrude on your place of work,” Oliver said, almost sheepishly, and Barry decided that he absolutely loved this shy and sensitive side of Oliver. Still, he rolled his eyes, grabbed the sleeve of Oliver’s shirt, and used a little bit of speed force strength to yank him into the precinct.

“You’re fine, you big lug. Come on, let’s see if I can slip by Captain Singh and get to my office.” Barry kept his grip on Oliver’s sleeve as he kept his head down, running up the stairs and dashing into his office, so far managing to avoid all human contact. Once inside, Barry released his grip on the sweater, able to relax for the time being.

He glanced at Oliver, looking out of place in the CSI lab, and gestured to a couple of chairs in the far corners. “Feel free to sit down. Take a nap, play some Candy Crush, or whatever.” Barry grabbed a couple of files off of his desk and waved the monitor around on his computer, noticing the article that was open. Barry stopped, dropping the files on the table as he picked up the newspaper, eyes scanning the headline. 

“Flash Falters.”

Beneath it, of course, is a flattering picture of him being thrown onto a car. He stopped as he sat down in his seat, beginning to read. He got through exactly one paragraph, explaining, in great detail, how inexperienced he was at fighting, when Oliver’s arm reached around him and turned the screen off.

“You shouldn’t be reading that, you know.” His voice was gruffer than usual, and Barry threw a mean face at him. “You’d be ripping the newspaper out of my hands at a speed faster than light if it was me and you know it.”

“You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t read.” Barry crossed his arms in defiance and spun his chair around to face Oliver, scowling up at him. 

“I can tell you what’s not going to get you anywhere and reading that? That’s just going to make you doubt every move you make out there.” Oliver pointed out the window, voice rising. “Trust me, I’d know.“

“Oh yeah? You’d know? How many times are you going to Lord your experience over me Oliver? It’s two fucking years!” Barry stood up, squaring off with Oliver. “You’re just mad because I can beat you and you know it.”

“Having superpowers doesn’t make you a ‘superhero’, Barry,” Oliver made quotation marks in the air and Barry wanted very much to hit him, “experience and precision are just as important.”

“And look where that’s gotten me! Everyone I love fucking dies!” Barry had tears in his eyes and holy cow was that embarrassing. Oliver stepped forward, opening his arms, and Barry sped into them, not caring who was watching, wrapping his arms around Oliver’s waist and burying his face into the crook between Oliver’s neck and shoulder. Oliver was being surprisingly nice for a person being yelled at moments earlier.

“It’s alright to be human sometimes, Bear,” Oliver whispered in his ear, rubbing his back, and damn if he needed to hear that.

“I don’t know how to move on,” Barry whispered, swallowing hard. He could feel the wetness at his eyes, knew he was soaking up Oliver’s sweater. He let out a wet chuckle and sniffed. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he admitted in a meek voice.

“I get it. You’re angry at the world and you don’t know how to deal with it.” Oliver rested his head on top of Barry’s, beard against soft mop of brown hair. This time, Oliver’s understanding didn’t sound like a condescension. It was nice to have someone understand. “I’m sorry I turned off your computer. It struck a chord with me.”

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock. Besides, I’m mainly mad because it’s Windows 7. That shit’ll take forever to turn on.” Barry laughed and held on a minute longer before he pulled back, keeping one hand on Oliver’s shoulder and using the other to wipe his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. Oliver still had both hands on his shoulders and in another life, they could have been dancing. Barry couldn’t exactly place what the look on the other man’s face was, but he hoped to be the cause of that smile more often. “God, I’m a mess.”

Oliver hummed in lieu of response, and Barry got it. They were both messes. Oliver took one hand off of Barry’s shoulder and Barry mourned the loss of it, their own little barrier of warmth. Then, however, he gently cupped the base of Barry’s face, and used his other hand to wipe a couple of stray tears from his cheeks. Barry leaned into the rough skin of his callouses, half-wanting to close his eyes and absorb the feeling of warmth and safety, but not wanting to miss a moment of cataloguing every detail of Oliver’s face, his eyes, his cheeks, his lips. He swore Oliver glancing down at his lips, and he could feel there was an electricity between them. If they only moved in a few inches, they would be kissing, and Barry wasn’t sure why that sent thrills down his back. 

“Barry,” Oliver whispered, and that broken call of a name was enough, they were both leaning in, and…

“Sorry gentlemen! Don’t mean to interrupt.” Barry and Oliver leapt about two feet in opposite directions and turned to the door to Barry’s office, seeing a man in a black suit standing awkwardly in the doorway. The man chuckled awkwardly, before waltzing in. “Are either of you Bartholomew Allen?”

“Um, I am,” Barry said, scratching at his eyes with his sweater. “And you are…?”

“Mr. Smith from Smith lawyer company. I believe we spoke on the phone?”

Barry’s face paled, and he watched Oliver instinctively get into a stance ready for battle, likely reaching for one of the several knives he had stored on his person. Barry didn’t even have time to process that as the man crossed the floor to stand closer to Barry. The man held out his hand – right, handshakes. This was what normal adults did during normal adult meetings. Barry took Mr. Smith’s hand and shook it, feeling at unease with the way the man shook his hand all too fast. 

“I don’t normally make house calls, but Dr. Wells was very specific in his request that you be the sole proprietor of Star Labs.”

“I know, and I’ve been keeping the place up and running,” Barry mentioned, crossing the floor to his desk. The man followed, and Barry picked up a random file and leafed through it, not really noticing the contents. “Now excuse me, but I’m quite busy around here.”

“I can see that.” Mr. Smith cracked a smile and gestured with his head over to where Oliver was, now leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Barry wondered if that was where Oliver kept his weapons, but then remembering where he was, he coughed, regained his composure, and sent the lawyer a glare. Mr. Smith seemed unfazed, but his face dropped back to its usual severity. “Anyways, it’s going to take more than just mopping the floors to take care of the property. It’s planned to go on the market this weekend, unless you watch this.”

The man held up a flash drive, before continuing. “It will send me a notification when you’ve watched it to completion. However, Dr. Wells was very specific in his request. You could only get the deed once you watch the video.”

“I’m not going to watch it,“ Barry said, dropping into his chair and spinning it to face his desk, hoping to appear busier. The lawyer dropped the flash drive on his desk.

“Just think about it,“ he said, turning to walk away., “Remember, I’m just the living will of Dr. Wells.”

With that, the lawyer left, and Barry watched as Oliver relaxed. He uncurled from the wall and started to gather his stuff, and without a word between them, slunk out of the room. It was like he knew, before Barry even asked, that he needed time alone. Barry shoved the flash drive into his back pocket and got back to his work, trying to keep his mind from falling apart.


	9. Believe Me, We’re All Alarmed

As soon as he got the alert on his phone that there was an unauthorized entry in the cortex, his first thought was,  I only got 30 minutes of peace and quiet. His next thought was reflecting on how selfish his first thought was, which led to a third thought wondering how selfish it would be to fix up the security at Star Labs. Which brought him back to the issue at hand: the break-in. He couldn’t figure out how to work the cameras just yet - he wasn’t a coding or engineering genius like Cisco - which meant he was going in blind. Great. Absolutely great.

He raced back to Star Labs, casing the floors for any out of the ordinary objects and working his way up. There were moments of nostalgia as he realized that the workrooms were exactly as they had been before the Singularity, when the entire team was working there. Finally, he made it to the cortex, only to notice –

“Iris? Joe? Cisco?” His voice honest to god squeaked on the last syllable as he looked in shock around the room. The whole team was there: Cisco, Joe, Iris, Professor Stein. He caught a glance at Oliver lurking in the corner, and sent a glare his way. Oliver only shrugged. Barry would have burst out laughing at the thought of how that call had went – he’s not sure what’s more funny, imagining Joe’s permanently grumpy demeanor towards the vigilante, Iris’s heart eyes, or Cisco over-enthusiasm - if he weren’t so damn pissed. He felt all the absences there, though, Iris hovering over the screen without her fiancé flanking her, Professor Stein, no longer Firestorm. Barry couldn’t begin to think of what to say. “What are you guys doing here?” he settled with. 

They all ignored him. 

“Working,” was the distracted reply Iris threw at him, not looking up from the screen. 

“So, Caitlin was right,” Cisco muttered under his breath. 

“Yes, all humans contain a small amount of radiation due to contact with cell phones, microwaves, televisions, et cetera,” Professor Stein started “Our bodies are natural conductors.”

“I think out metahuman is draining the radiation out of the environment around him and using it to power himself,” Cisco continued.

“Which is why the x-ray machines at the hospital all went out,” Iris finished. She may not have a college degree in science, but she was still smart as a whip, able to keep up just as well with the team as anyone else. Barry’s heart practically leapt out of his chest with love for her, and that’s when he remembered exactly why she, or any of them, shouldn’t be there. 

“If we want to find him, we should be looking at places with no radiation,” Cisco muttered, already typing furiously at his laptop, and Barry had enough. It was tugging on all the wrong heartstrings, seeing the team back together for a brief moment before he knew, he would have to break it up.

“All right, guys, I don’t want any of you here right now,“ Barry stated, firmly and clearly. He waited for them to leave, but nobody made a move. Cisco and Professor Stein didn’t look up from the screen, but Iris spared him a look almost akin to pity. Barry couldn’t help but notice, with spite, Joe and Oliver leaning on opposite corners of the room, glaring at each other and saying absolutely nothing to help Barry’s case. Traitors.

“Tough. You need your partners. You need your friends.” Barry looked around at the room as Iris spoke. To be honest, he was confused as to why they were even still his friends. “Barry, everyone in this room cares about you, but we also care about this city. We all want to make a difference, and that means fighting metahumans, and that means working with the Flash. You can’t deny us that. Not anymore.”

He had been avoiding eye contact with her for her entire speech, but at her last few words, he locked eyes with her and found it impossible to pull himself away. Her words sent him back to the graveyard on Saturday morning, her promise that he wouldn’t have to sleep there alone anymore. He was sometimes overwhelmed with is love for her, which before was romantic but now has faded into something more special, stronger. She was his sister and it was his job to protect her, but wasn’t it also his job to let her in? To let her pave her own path?

“Got him!“ Cisco’s voice snapped Barry out of his daze. “There’s a three block dead zone near a hazardous waste reclamation plant. It should be blooming with rads, and right now it’s at zero.“

“That’s where you’ll find your Atom Smasher!“ Professor Stein’s face lit up in a way Barry hadn’t seen him since Ronnie was around, and his hands were moving in the air as he spoke. He chuckled, but as he saw the eyes turned to him the laughter died down. “Because he absorbs atomic power and he, well, smashes.”

Cisco extended his arms to the Professor. “Come here,” he said, reaching up to engulf Stein in a hug. “That’s a great name. Welcome to the team.”

Cisco looked so earnest that Barry almost didn’t have the heart to remind him that there was no more team.

Barry looked over their faces one last time, young and bright and innocent, letting his gaze linger on Oliver in the corner. He, more than anyone, should understand the sacrifices that his life required. Time was slowed down for him, but he could already see the tension building in Oliver’s shoulders, arms, Barry knew he had caught Oliver mid-motion. He knew that as soon as he returned to normal time, Oliver would be suiting up and asking Barry for a ride to the warehouse. Oliver knew Barry. Oliver knew that Barry would go regardless, and Barry knew that Oliver wouldn’t want him to go alone. 

He looked over at Cisco, Professor Stein, and Iris, knew that they would all agree to try and find some way to stop Atom Smasher, in some valiant attempt to protect Barry. Barry could almost laugh at that, like he was the one who deserved protection.

Barry sped off, without his comms, leaving everyone behind.

***

“Where the fuck did he go?” was the first sentence out of Oliver’s mouth as he watched Barry speed away. He leapt into action, throwing on his hood and grabbing his bow out of his bag.

“You’ll never make it in time,” Cisco said, already pulling up the map. Oliver stormed over to the screen. “He’s on the other side of town.“

“I can try,” Oliver growled, swinging the quiver over his chest. Cisco was typing furiously at the keyboard, already distracted, but just as he was about to leave, a pair of slender hands grabbed his arm.

“Wait!” Iris gently tugged his arm, knowing that he could break out of her grip at any moment, and trusting that he wouldn’t. “You won’t do any good for Barry driving aimlessly around town, but we can help him here. Or, at least, we can try to. Besides, it’ll be nice for him to see your face when he comes back, won’t it?”

Oliver hesitated, a lightness in his feet as he wanted desperately to run out that door and run after Barry, but he hesitated. He knew Barry could handle himself; he was a speedster, and contrary to the way Oliver lectured Barry, he knew the younger man could take care of himself in a fight. And something about Iris’s words resonated with him. He wanted to do what was best for Barry, and in this case, he was just going to have to accept that it was staying back this time.

He tugged off his hood and neatly stacked it, along with his bow and quiver on top of his duffel bag in the corner and calmly walked back to the center of the cortex, where Cisco was furiously tapping on a screen. He noticed Joe on the other side of the screen and they exchanged a solemn nod, both wanting desperately to race into battle. 

“What do you have?“ Oliver asked, trying to not be as aggressive. Cisco muttered something indecipherable under his breath. 

“He’s trying to get surveillance of the warehouse,” Iris supplied to him, watching as Cisco finally managed to hack into the security cameras. The video feed was projected across all the different screens in the cortex. 

Oliver watched as Barry used his arms to propel wind at Rothstein’s face – no, he was not calling him Atom Smasher. The meta was struggling to stay upright, and Oliver could see that Barry was so close to pushing him over, but Rothstein dug his feet into the ground and the tornado of wind swirling around them was for nothing.

He must have sensed this, because Barry sped up to Rothstein, throwing in punches at the arms, the legs, the chest, hoping to just get at least one good punch in.

Jab. Cross. Left hook. Right uppercut. Oliver watched the speed force cackling with each punch.

It wasn’t working.

Rothstein grabbed Barry’s punch and swung a hook to his unprotected face, sending him sprawling backwards.

Oliver lost it when the metahuman grew, muscles expanding and head rising. The metahuman grabbed Barry by the neck in one easy swipe, and Oliver watched as Barry gasped on nothing.

“Dad,” Iris whispered. Oliver wasn’t sure if he heard.

“Maybe we can make it there,” Joe said, glancing at Oliver. It took Oliver a second too long to give a curt nod back, ready to race out.

“No, you won’t, and what are you going to do when you get there? The boot didn’t work on him,” Cisco said hurriedly, his mind already spinning in several directions trying to come up with a solution. 

Oliver turned back to the footage, trying to think. What could they do? He wasn’t going to give up on Barry.

“Alarm,” Professor Stein said, urgently behind him, and that was it.

“Believe me, we’re all alarmed—“

“Move.” Oliver cut Cisco off as he pushed his chair aside, getting to work on the security system. Cisco had gotten him into the network already, and it took a couple more precious seconds, far too many, before he finally activated the alarm.

He looked at the screen and held his breath.

Oliver watched as the alarm went off. The metahuman, losing focus, loosened his grip for a moment, and Barry was able to phase out and run off. Oliver released a breath he didn’t know he was holding and he felt the people around him do the same. He almost forgot, in the heat of the moment, that he was surrounded by people who cared about Barry just as much as he did.

That was odd. He didn’t really remember the younger man ever becoming such an important person in his life. It just sort of happened.

“Who knew Oliver Queen could hack like that?” Oliver turned around to be greeted with a wolf whistle from Cisco. “Damn, that was some clean code. Twizzler?”

He held up a hand of refusal at the sticky offering. “I didn’t always have Felicity,” he grumbled. He would have continued further, but a pained gasp from the hallway to the cortex had him rushing out.

There, lying on the cold ground, was one passed out Barry Allen.


	10. Mac N Cheese, Salty With Tears

_A bowl of mac and cheese is placed in front of him, and it’s just another reminder that this isn’t his kitchen, the bowl isn’t his favorite red bowl, and the person in front of him is not his mother. He pushes the bowl away, stomach twisting at the thought of food._

_“No thank you,” he says, because if he was raised to be anything — don’t think about who raised you — he was raised to be polite._

_“Iris says mac and cheese is your favorite.” Joe’s using the soft voice on him, the voice adults use around him when they realize who he is._

_He doesn’t like being coddled. He shrugs._

_“I’m not hungry.”_

_Joe leans on his chair, crouching down. “It’s been... six months, Barry, you gotta eat, son.” Joe pauses before mentioning the time, as if he’s afraid to bring up any mention of her, and Barry shoves the bowl away from him._

_“It’s a good move, being angry all the time. I get it.” Joe nods like he understands everything that Barry is going through and Barry wants to punch him for it. Joe doesn’t understand. He couldn’t. “You miss your mom and dad all the time and you wanna show them that you’re strong. Being mad makes it easier.”_

_Barry lowers his head. That’s not...Joe can’t be talking like that. Not after he put Barry’s father in prison._

_“Tougher thing to do, would be to let yourself feel.” Joe doesn’t know anything about this, he couldn’t, how could he know anyways? Joe continues, regardless. “It’s okay to be sad. You can be sad, Barry. Your parents will understand if you’re not strong all the time.”_

_Barry can feel his composure breaking. He wants to give in so badly, to the tears welling behind his eyes, the emptiness building in his chest, the emptiness that has been building for six months, since he realized he’d never see his mother again, never listen to her tell stories of smile. But his dad’s in prison. How can he be so weak when his dad’s trapped in a cage, like an animal? Barry shakes his head, wills the tears away. He has to be strong._

_“That is why I’m here,” Joe tells him, and Barry breaks, rushing into the arms of the man who has taken him into his home as one of his own. Because his mom isn’t here. His dad isn’t here. But Joe is._

_“It’s okay, son. I got you.” They rock back and forth in the living room and Barry gives himself permission to cry._

***

The first thing he noticed as he stirred awake was the heart monitor beeping. Beep, beep, beep, a steady pace. Except, he didn’t remember passing out. Or hooking himself up to a heart monitor...

He jolted upright, eyes wide in fear, only to calm down as Joe rose with him, placing a soothing hand on his thigh. “You’re good. I got you.”

Barry settled back into the bed and tried to steady his breathing, groaning as the pain from being smashed into a wall — repeatedly — settled into his bones. He looked around, to find no one else.

“Where is everyone?“ he asked. 

“I figured you wouldn’t want an audience when you woke up.” Joe always knew him best.

Barry scoffed, leaning his head back against the pillow. “Yeah, thanks.” He paused, unsure if he wanted to ask, but his curiosity got the better of him. “Oliver?”

“Went back to his hotel, I think. Although you might want to talk to him later. That boy was nine types of messed up worried about you.”

Barry grimaced, imagining that conversation. Joe hovered his hand over Barry’s own, his mouth working like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. Finally, Joe spoke.

“Iris is right. You’re not gonna do this anymore.”

Barry gave him an unimpressed look, but Joe continued. 

“For the last six months, I’ve given you your space to work all this out, to come back to us. But today, you proved you’d rather just get yourself killed.”

There’s a harsh edge to Joe’s tone, and Barry can feel the anger just simmering below the surface, and Barry felt just a tad guilty.  It’s for his own good,  Barry reminded himself. “Better than getting my friends killed,” Barry retorted, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. Joe just sighed. 

“You want me to tell you that it wasn’t your fault? I can’t. It was.” It was the same truth that he had been telling himself for months, the same truth everyone else was afraid to tell him, and it still hurt to hear it from Joe’s voice. A tear slipped out of Barry’s eye and he made no move to wipe it away, letting it roll down his cheek as Joe kept talking. “Guess what? You weren’t the only one making decisions. All the rest of use were there too. Eddie and Ronnie, they chose to help you stop Wells, and stop that, um, –”

“Singularity,” Barry supplied.

“– singularity thing. It’s on all of us, Barry. So stop with this hogging all the blame and regret. We gotta live with it. Move on.”

Barry was openly crying now. Tears slid down his cheeks and fell onto the blankets beneath him. Barry made no move to wipe them away and Joe, to his credit, didn’t either, knew when Barry just needed to let it all out. Joe let that sit for a minute, before he heard a soft reply. 

“What do I do now?”

“Well, I heard you’ve been rebuilding Central City at night.” Barry allowed himself a small smile, knowing exactly who Joe’s source on that was. “That’s just bricks and paint. Maybe you should start trying to rebuild the things that really matter.”

Joe stood up as if to leave, patting Barry’s knee. “You should get some rest, son. And hey, Bear?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you should talk to Queen first.” Joe paused, before continuing. “Look, you had six months to come to us with your grief, and you shut us all out. But you went to him. I’m not gonna lie Bear, I wish you came to me, but I get it. Just, he’s good for you. If things go bad, I want you to have someone you trust in your corner. Okay?”

“Yeah, Joe. And thanks. For, you know, everything.” Barry hoped he could get across in those few words how grateful he was to everything Joe had done from him, ever since he was a young boy placed by misfortunate chance under his wing. Joe just smiled and left Barry alone, as Barry drifted back into an uneasy sleep.

***

_If there is ever a night when Barry wishes to be able to get drunk, it’s this one._

_“Come on, Care-Bear, let’s dance,” Eddie slurs, teetering slightly as he gets off of the bar stool. He holds both his hands out to Barry, who shakes his head. Eddie just frowns at him. “Come on, I never get to dance. Iris won’t dance with me,” he pouts._

_“I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink,” Barry mutters, shaking his head. “We should be getting you home.”_

_Eddie’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. “No! Not there. Not tonight.”_

_“Why not?” Barry’s relieved to finally get some answers. When Eddie showed up at his house earlier tonight, refusing to give any answers and wanting to go drinking, Barry didn’t say anything. Still, worry and if he’s being honest, a little bit of hope is blossoming in his chest. “Everything alright at home?”_

_“Everything’s fine,” Eddie says, all too fast. He leans on the bar counter and takes another swig of his drink, whisky on the rocks. “Iris just kicked me out. Said I was hiding something. Said we needed ‘absolute honesty’ or whatever if we were gonna do this.”_

_Barry watches as Eddie tries to be nonchalant, but he can see the tears glistening in Eddie’s eyes. Eddie takes another swing of his drink and hiccups._

_“I never should have asked you to keep this from her,” Barry whispers, hand finding Eddie’s and holding it on the bar counter. “But Ed, she can’t know I’m the Flash. It’ll put her in so much danger.”_

_“I know, I know,” Eddie says, resting his head in his other hand, still grasping at Barry’s fingers on the table. “It’s just so hard, you know?”_

_Eddie looks at him, pleading, and Barry can feel the bass of the music vibrating at his feet and smell the whisky on Eddie’s breath and yet he feels like Eddie’s trying to tell something, is caught up in the mystery and the intrigue and the beauty in Eddie’s eyes. He wants to ask, to beg to know, what else is Eddie trying to tell him, but he breaks the eye contact, reaches into his back pocket, and slaps a couple of twenties onto the counter._

_“Come on, you can crash with me tonight,” Barry says, standing up. He reaches out and grabs Eddies forearms in an attempt to steady him as he gets up. Eddie grips back on Barry’s arms, lifts himself up, but he teeters, and falls right into Barry’s arms. “Easy there, Ed,” Barry says, all too overwhelmed with the armful of blonde leaning against him._

_Eddie gets his balance back, but they’re close, close enough that Barry can count the eyelashes fluttering against his eyes. Barry holds his breath, glancing between Eddie’s bright blue eyes and his lips._

_And then they’re kissing._

_Their teeth clink at first, but then Eddie sinks his hand into Barry’s hair and tilts his head and – yep, that’s the right angle. It feels like Barry’s releasing a breath that he had been holding for months. He sags into it, unwinding into Eddie, grasping at his shoulders as the only thing grounding him from floating upwards. It lasts for two seconds or a lifetime, all Barry can feel is the lips moving against his and the smell of cologne and gun-powder and he can taste the whisky that he knew was sloshing around in Eddie’s mouth moments ago._

_His hands trail over Eddie’s shoulder, his shirt, and he’s resting his hand against Eddie’s heart, fast, beating, alive. It’s only then that he realizes his hand feels sticky. He breaks out of the kiss with a gasp, but it's red, blooming, blossoming, staining Eddie’s perfectly white shirt. Eddie smiles, bittersweet, before falling to the floor, and Barry is too slow to catch him, is always too slow to catch him._

***

Barry woke up and knew exactly where he needed to go.


	11. The Doctor Is In

“If you’re not careful, someone’s gonna realize that Oliver Queen can fight.” Oliver didn’t turn around at Barry’s words, but Barry swore he attacked the punching bag with more force than before. Oliver had headphones in, but Barry knew they were for appearances sake more than anything, and that Oliver had probably heard him coming the moment he stepped into the gym. Oliver was always teaching him to be aware of his surroundings. “I know you can hear me.”

Oliver stepped from the punching bag and tugged the headphones out of his ears. Only then did Barry see his hands, unwrapped, bleeding red. “What do you want, Barry?”

Barry ignored his question, instead stepping closer, grabbing Oliver’s hands tenderly in his own. “Oh, Ollie, you can’t do this to yourself. What good is an archer with big bruises on his hands?”

Oliver snorted. “You’re one to talk about self-preservation.”

Barry sighed. “Look, can we just go somewhere and talk?“

Oliver looked around at the gym, seeing that were only a scattering of people in there, a couple of old people and some young gym rats. Still, Barry knew they both would rather not have these types of conversations in a gym, surrounded by sweaty people. Oliver sighed, before grabbing his water bottle from on the ground and starting to walk away. Barry’s face fell, until Oliver motioned for him to come.

“Follow me,” Oliver said, and Barry happily obliged. Oliver’s tone was cold and Barry felt something inside of him tug.

It was exactly how Oliver had been for the first few months, years, if comatose time counted, of their friendship: Barry making all the effort, Oliver cold as ice. Barry would have given up as soon as Oliver met him on that first crime scene, but then Oliver had apologized and Barry caught a glimpse of the man underneath. Barry never could resist a challenge, and Oliver couldn’t resist the urge to impart all of his worldly knowledge upon a fledgling vigilante. After one too many burgers and milkshakes after practicing, Barry had gotten Oliver to laugh for the first time, so hard that milkshake ended up spurting out of Oliver’s nose. Since then, their tentative and unlikely friendship boomed, and Barry couldn’t be more grateful to have someone who understood him in his corner.

Now, though? It was like Oliver was ice and Barry was fire. Any touch from Barry burned.

Oliver swiped his card against the door and went into the room. Barry followed like an aimless dog, not sure if he was supposed to but not letting the moment pass him.

Oliver leaned against a wall — Oliver didn’t think he was a threat, did he? — and crossed his arms, glaring at Barry. “You wanted to talk. So talk.”

“Ollie, I’m sorry you’re mad at me for leaving you at Star Labs.”

“Continue.” Oliver nodded.

Barry hesitated, knowing this next comment would not bode over well for his case. “I would do it over again.”

Barry watched as Oliver gave no reaction to the news, face still against the white wall. Looking closer, he noticed Oliver’s jaw clenching.

“Okay, why?”

Barry blinked, once, twice. Honestly, Oliver was acting completely out of character, and it was unnerving. Friendly Oliver? A quality Oliver. Rated 10/10, in Barry’s eyes. Angry ice queen Oliver? Quite predictable, solid 3/10, but still lovable. But this? Understanding Oliver, giving him a chance fo speak? Creepy as fuck.

“Don’t act so surprised, Barry. Am I pissed you went in alone, without any back-up? Absolutely. But I’ve done the solo mission before. I know how it can be. Maybe I understand the value of one’s team better than you do, but I get to decide if your reason for almost dying is dumb.”

Barry took approximately 0.3 seconds to gape with his mouth open, before shutting it and taking the advantage to speak. “Okay, so you’re being creepily understanding. So you know, perfectly well, the sacrifices that this life requires.”

Oliver’s demeanor cracked as he had a centimeter of a smile. “I haven’t had a solid eight hours of sleep in months.”

Barry rolled his eyes. “I meant more along the lines of pulling a batman and having no friends or family or any sort of personal relationship.“

“Batman still had an Alfred.”

“You saying you want to be my sidekick?”

“I’m just saying, that could have gone a hell of a lot better if you had brought me out onto the field as backup. But you know what? It’s not entirely on you.”

Barry crossed his arms and stepped closer to Oliver. “Don’t go pulling the guilty, self-blame look Ollie. First of all, me going out there alone was my decision and mine alone. And second of all, that’s my aesthetic, dumbass.” Barry punched Oliver lightly on the shoulder. It’s a testament to their bond that Barry didn’t end up in a headlock moments later.

“I still had my motorcycle. I should have followed you. You said that you would do that all over again. Well I wouldn’t. I’m not going to let you be reckless like that over a matter of pride.”

“It’s not pride, Ollie, it’s me trying to protect the ones I love, damnit!” Barry took a deep breath, careful not to raise his voice too much. “If I keep getting people hurt, then I’ve got to do the responsible thing and keep away from them.”

“That’s not sustainable and you know it, Barry.”

“I had a talk with Joe, I know I need my friends. He told me I should rebuild the things that matter, and that’s what I’m gonna do, starting here.” Barry gestured to the two of them. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m going put people in unnecessary risk. They wanna sit behind a computer screen, tell me where to take a left turn or at what angle a supersonic punch should be? That’s fine. I’ll love them for it. But tell me, Ollie, what would you have done if you were facing off against Atom Smasher?”

“I would have had your back,” Oliver ground out.

“Oh yeah? What, you would have shot some arrows at him, Mr. Arrow? When not even the boot worked, what could that have done, huh? What if that were you in that chokehold, and you couldn’t have phased away?“

Oliver had the audacity to look Barry dead in the eyes. “I know my way around a fight, Barry.”

Barry grabbed both of Oliver’s hands, dragged him down so that they were sitting on the bed, facing each other. “You have been through five years of hell and I get that, Ollie, I get that. You are so strong. And you being here has helped me realize some of the dumbass things I’ve been doing, and how I can try to fix it. But you’ve got to understand, here, Ollie, this isn’t something I’m going to budge on. Central City’s got a new breed of criminal, you heard the mayor. And sometimes, your human tactics won’t be enough to stop the meta with the wacky powers. Sometimes, you’re gonna have to let me go into battle alone. I’m learning to let people in, Oliver, but you’ve got to learn how to let them go a little.”

Oliver looked down to where his hands were still in Barry’s. Barry followed his gaze and blushed a little, but neither of them made any move to let go. The moment stretched out, Barry’s gaze on Oliver, Oliver’s gaze anywhere but Barry, when finally, Oliver broke the silence. “I think I’d like to be alone right now,” Oliver said, in a small voice. Barry just nodded, slipped his hands out from Oliver’s, and left, listening for the click as he pulled the door shut and then flashing away. 

***

The smile on her face when she saw him was worth everything.

Caitlin turned away from her microscope, grinning when she caught sight of Barry, leaning awkwardly on the side of the doorway, one hand fingering his collarbone. “What are you doing here?” she asked, softly. 

Barry was thanking whatever deity was up there for the fact that Caitlin wasn’t immediately throwing him out. Or yelling. Or crying. Or basically any other the other hundred ways she could have reacted, as his lovely mind had plotted out for him on the way over. 

Oh, right. She was looking at him, expecting an answer. 

“Sorry, I should’ve called or…something,” Barry said, stepping into the lab and awkwardly waving his hands around. Amazing social skills at work, here. “I just, I wanted to see you.”

Her smile faded slightly, and she fixed him with a questioning look. “It’s been a while.” Her voice was soft, but she was wary. 

“Yeah, um, Cisco said that he saw you at the Flash Day celebration. I was surprised” Barry walked towards, avoiding her eyes. “You, better than anyone, know that I wasn’t the hero that day.”

“Of course you were.” The way Caitlin looked at him, as if he were an idiot for thinking otherwise, made him feel sick to the stomach.

“No.” He sighed. “Cait, Ronnie died saving me and I should have saved him, and I’m– I’m so sorry.” There wasn’t anything else he could say, anything he could do to make her realize how sorry he was, how much guilt he felt, how much he wished he could just undo every damned decision he made that day. His words were all he had, and he hoped with everything in him that she knew how sincere they were.

“Barry, I know that you did everything you could. It wasn’t your fault.” Her eyes were starting to shine, welling up with tears. Barry broke her gaze and looked down at his feet. Somehow, it was the same story that everyone had been telling him for months, and hearing it from Caitlin? Actually made him feel a bit lighter. If he was a braver man, he would reach across the ocean between them and take her hand. “I don’t blame you for Ronnie’s death. I blame myself.”

There it was. The big bomb. Barry couldn’t possibly see how that was possible, but then again, he was a master of the self-guilt train, wasn’t he?

“Why?”

Caitlin laughed, wet. “When Ronnie first became Firestorm, he asked me to leave CC., and go somewhere that we could have a normal life. And I said no! I couldn’t leave Star Labs, Dr Wells, You. If I had gone with him, Ronnie would still be alive. Being at Star Labs just made me think of that every single day.”

Caitlin’s voice was thick with tears, starting to spill over onto her cheeks. In a way, Barry understood. Going back to Star Labs, the building he now had under his name, was devastating in a completely different way. He hadn’t even been down to the particle accelerator since that night and Star Labs was full of ghosts. His whole world was. The police station, Joe’s place, his own apartment, everything was full of Eddie, Iris, Ronnie, Caitlin, reminders of his grief and his mistakes and his failures. He reached into his back pocket and grabbed a handkerchief, passing it to Caitlin, meeting her eyes and trying to communicate his understanding. From the look she gave him, she heard him.

“Oh, you carry a handkerchief now? What are you, 80?” Caitlin laughed, trying to make a joke as Barry fiddled with the handkerchief, voice still thick with tears. As he passed it over to her, something clattered to the floor. Barry crouched down and grabbed it. “Oh, what’s that?” Caitlin asked as Barry rose.

“Ah, it’s um, apparently, in the case of his death, Wells had some kind of a living will.”

“And you haven’t watched it yet?” Caitlin said, knowingly.

“No, no, I’ve been too afraid.”

Caitlin tilted her head to the side, meeting his eyes with a tentative smile, a hand out in the darkness. “What if we watched it together?”

Barry nodded. “Alright.” He grabbed her hand and she led him.


	12. The Confession (Duh Duh Duh)

“ _Hello, Barry. If you’re watching this, that means something has gone really wrong. I’m dead, and the last fifteen years have been for nothing. Bummer. Fifteen years. And I realized during all those years, helping raise you, that we were never truly enemies, Barry. I’m not the thing you hate. And so, I want to give you the thing that you want most. It won’t matter. You’ll never be truly happy, Barry Allen, trust me. I know you. Now, erase everything I said up to this point, and give the following message to the police. My name is Harrison Wells. Being of sound mind and body, I freely confess to the murder of Nora Allen, in her home on the night of March 18th, in the year 2000. I attacked Nora Allen in her kitchen,… ” _

“Oh my god.” Caitlin squeezed his hand, the hand she had been holding the whole time. “He confessed.”

“This is it.” Barry was in a daze. He laughed, weakly, more of an expelling of air than anything. “This is what I need to free my dad.“ He looked over to Caitlin and she smiled at him. He gave her hand a final squeeze before pulling his loose, standing up and grabbing his phone. 

He dialed a number he knew all too well and put the phone to his ear. “Hey Joe, yeah, hey,” he started, one hand running through his hair. “Can you have everybody meet me at Star Labs?“

He could practically hear Joe’s smile over the phone. “Sure thing, Bear. You alright?”

“Yeah, alright, thanks.”

“Bye, Bear.”

“Yeah, alright, bye.” He took a deep breath. 

He looked over at Caitlin. He still couldn’t believe it was real. He looked to her, seeking confirmation that this wasn’t just another cruel trick from his mind. 

She smiled at him. She almost looked younger like that. “I’ll drive,” she said, and holy hell, this must be real.

“Okay.” Barry’s breathy reply was the last thing he said before they were both making their way outside.

***

The drive gave him time to let the knowledge sink in. This was real. This was promising. For the first time since he was ten, he finally had a fighting chance to get his dad out of jail. Any last thoughts of revenge meant nothing in comparison to the chance that his dad might be able to come home.

Don’t get your hopes up, he told himself. But as he leaned his head against the cold glass of the window, he couldn’t help but grin.

***

The rest of the team must have been waiting inside. When Barry arrived, he was greeted with a pacing Joe and a sulking Oliver at the doors to Star Labs. Barry would’ve given a limb to know how that conversation went. 

He burst out of the car before Caitlin had even fully stopped it, running immediately into Joe’s arms with a huge smile on his face. Joe just seemed to roll with the large armful of lanky man he was now holding.

“You wanna tell me why the whole team is assembled?” Joe asked him, when Barry finally let go and stepped back. Barry heard the tell-tale clicks of Caitlin’s heels behind him. 

“This,” Barry said, holding up the flash drive. ”I think this could get my dad out of jail.”

“What’s on that?”

“Wells, he, um, he confessed.” Barry faltered. It felt almost wrong, the idea that Wells was still controlling his life from beyond the grave. Barry didn’t have the time to even begin to process the message before the confession. Still, his dad was going to get out of prison. Gotta be the optimist here.

Joe broke out into a smile. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Bear. The confession’s gotta be strong for a judge to even consider it. But Bear, this could be it.” Joe laughed. “Lemme take a look at this, alright? See if I can lean on some connections to get it expedited.”

Barry placed the flash drive into Joe’s hand. Part of him felt weird, putting his father’s future into Joe’s hand.

“I’ll, um, follow him!” Caitlin said, going to follow Joe. Barry didn’t blame her; he could cut the tension between him and Oliver with a knife. Barry watched as Joe started to enter the building, and grabbed his wrist.

“Hey Joe?” Barry’s voice was hesitant, but he cleared it. “Thanks, Dad.”

Joe’s face broke out into a huge grin, and Barry saw his eyes start to shine a little. He patted Barry on the back. “No problem, Bear.”

Joe and Caitlin disappeared, leaving a sound party of two. 

Oliver hadn’t said anything yet, but now he smiled at Barry, bright blue eyes shining into brown. “Congratulations on your father, Barry.”

“I thought you were mad at me.” Barry crossed his arms and leaned on the wall next to Oliver, shoulder to shoulder. Enough to know that Oliver was still there beside him, without his stomach turning to mush from all the eye contact.

“I was. But then you got me thinking. And I’m only going to say this once, and if you tell anyone this happened, I’ll kill you,“ Oliver threatened, raising a finger at Barry. Barry snorted, earning him a dirty glare, but Oliver continued. “You were right.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I said, you were right.”

“I can’t hear you!“

“Damnit Barry, I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not working.”

“Alright, fine, you were saying? I’m amazing and right and you’re wrong?”

Oliver rolled his eyes, but Barry could see the beginnings of a grin. “I spent five years on Lian-yu and I learned how to play my cards close to my chest. I need to learn how to let people do what they need to do. And for that, Barry, I sincerely apologize.”

“Damn, I should’ve gotten that on recording.” Oliver punched Barry’s shoulder. “Ow! You know, you’re stronger than you think. Being the Green Arrow, and all.”

“I heard you heal fast.”

“Yeah, yeah, big shot, my shoulders still tingle whenever you pull out your bow. Keep laughing.” Barry’s laughter died down and he kicked at the ground with the toe of his shoe. “You know, I’ve been thinking, and maybe you’re right, too. I need to learn how to let go, too. I didn’t wanna put you in danger but Ollie, I know you’re more than capable of handling yourself out there. It’s just, thinking of you in danger really fucking terrifies me. Thinking of me being the one to put you there? God, I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if something happened to you–”

“And I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself if something happened to you and I wasn’t there. I guess we’re at a crossroads, huh?”

Barry nodded, bumping shoulders with Oliver. “Yeah, I guess.”

They fell silent for a moment, leaning on one another, before Barry broke the quiet.

“I’m gonna do the responsible thing here.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“We’re gonna go up there, I’m gonna get the news from Joe about my dad, and then we’re going to find a way to take down Atom Smasher. Together.”

Oliver smiled. “Guess I’d better race you to the cortex then, huh?”

“You can try, but I am known for being pretty fast around here.”

Oliver grinned at Barry, waiting for the telltale lightning and gust of air as he ran off, but Barry just stood there, smirking.

“Aren’t you going to, you know…?” Oliver made hand gestures vaguely resembling the concept of ‘going.’

“I’m giving you a head start, genius. I suggest you take it.”

“Fine.” Oliver made a mad dash inside, but instead of heading for the stairs, or hitting the elevator, he grabbed the duffel bag he stashed earlier and pulled out a certain arrow and his bow. Slinging the bag back over his shoulder, he strode past Barry outside, fired the arrow, and shot up like a rocket.

Suction arrows. He could kiss Felicity right now, the sound of Barry cursing from below worth every drop of panic in his mind as he dangled god knows how high in the air. It was then that Oliver realized he had no idea what floor the cortex was on.

***

“You think the video’s enough?” Joe asked on the phone, seemingly ignoring Barry’s anxious pacing beside him.

“Mm-hmm.” Barry wrung his hands. That sounded like agreement, didn’t it? Agreement is good. “Well, sure.”

“What’s she saying?” Barry finally gave into temptation and asked Joe.

“Hold on.” Joe covered his end of the phone. “Wells gave all the right details. It’s not a done deal yet, but the DA says it looks good.”

Barry could barely contain the squeal in his throat, but he didn’t think that would bode over for his case. He grinned, jumping up and down as he hugged Joe, before speeding off to the cortex as fast as was humanly possible. He collided into Oliver, waiting in the doorway – the idiot had ended up climbing to the roof of Star Labs – and jumped into the hug, wrapping his arms around Oliver’s neck and his legs around his waist. Oliver laughed, picking him up easily and giving him a little bounce. 

“Good news?” Oliver asked, when Barry finally calmed down enough to detach from his octopus grip. 

Barry just laughed. “I think so.”

He turned to look at his friends gathered inside the cortex: Iris, Cisco, Professor Stein, Caitlin. Iris stepped forward, grinning.

“Henry’s coming home?” Her voice cracked on the end and she threw her arms around Barry, laughing. Barry held on tight, breathing in her familiar smell, feeling her laugh against his chest. It was easy to forget that Iris actually knew his parents, that she was one of the few links to his past.

They parted, and Barry grew serious. He could feel Oliver standing by his side, a little bit behind, and drew strength from the man flanking him. “Okay, well, that still leaves Atom Smasher to deal with.”

“Last time you faced him, it did not go well.” Professor Stein, as always, had a good point.

“No, it did not. I clearly can’t stop him by myself. So, how are we gonna beat him?” Barry looked to his team for help and it almost felt like nothing had changed. Surprisingly, Caitlin was the first to speak.

“Well, ever since I was shown a drained radiation tag, which I haven’t been able to stop thinking about, thank you Cisco,“ she started, looking over at Cisco.

“You’re welcome, Caitlin,” Cisco pointed back at her.

“If this guy likes radiation so much, I say we give it to him.”


	13. Atom Smasher; Because He's Made of Atoms, and He Smashes

“ _I still think this is an incredibly ridiculous idea, Barry,_ ” Oliver said, over the comms, as Barry wheeled out the large light. The black lightning bolt was already in place. 

“Relax, I saw it in a comic once. It always worked in the comic.” Barry stopped wheeling it, repositioning the light so that it faced the sky over the water. “There. That should be good.”

“ _I can’t believe you based our entire plan on a comic book. What’s next, aliens exist?_ ”

Barry cranked the light on. Oh boy was Oliver going to have a trip when he met Kara. “Actually,…”

Oliver didn’t respond. Barry could practically hear the glare over the comms. 

“Hey, you know, I’ve gotta ask, because you seem like you would be, but then again, the broodiness always throws me off–”

“ _Spit it out, Barry,_ “ Oliver interrupted.

“Ouch, someone’s in a bad mood right now.”

“ _I’m ‘in a bad mood’ right now because I personally think this is a rather dumb idea._ ”

“Oh yes, you’ve voiced that several times. But remember, my city, my rules, right?”

“ _Just ask the damn question, Barry._ ”

“Right, so are you a Stucky shipper? It’s just, I was thinking of the comics, you know? And the movies, to be fair. I mean, the entire plot of one of the movies is Cap starting a war for his bestie. I mean, Cap being the only one to break Bucky out of his brainwashing does not feel platonic, you feel?“

Barry was half-convinced that he would have said something really dumb and revealing by now, but it seems all he was able to reveal was his nerdy side and his queer side combined. To be fair, it’s not like Oliver wasn’t aware of both. He was just glad that Oliver couldn’t see the blush spreading over his face.

“To be honest,” Oliver began, and wow did nothing good ever follow those words, “I think that Marvel had a chance for a really great lead character to be queer, and they didn’t take it. In addition, I think that the way they forced Steve Rogers together with different female characters was a bit homophobic, and a bit sexist, using strong female characters for the romantic subplots, simply to reaffirm the straightness of America’s most symbolic hero.”

Damn. Turns out nerdy Oliver was cute as fucking hell. As was gay-friendly Oliver.

'' _Preach, brother!”_ They had both forgotten that Cisco was on the earpiece, and could hear everything. Collectively, they groaned. 

_“Um, hey guys? As much as we all love hearing you talk nerd, Atom Smasher is approaching.”_ Thank god for Iris.

“Shit!” Barry cursed under his breath. He pressed the comms in his other ear, that went to Oliver and Oliver alone. “You remember the plan.”

“ _It’s not hard, Barry. I’ll be fine._ ”

“There’s still time, you know, to back out.”

“ _And who would I be if I backed out?_ ” Oliver asked the question gently, but Barry still felt like he had been stung. “ _I can handle myself. Just be careful._ ”

“You first.” Oliver could hear the shift in Barry’s voice. The Flash exuded confidence where Barry Allen was scared.

When Atom Smasher came, it was anticlimactic. Barry walked to the other side of the light, where Oliver was, and flicked it off. “What’s up? I see you got my message,” Barry said.

“ _Stop flirting with the criminals,_ ” Oliver gritted under his breath. 

“I know what I’m doing,” Barry bit back, whispering. Then, louder, he spoke to Atom Smasher. “You want me? You’re gonna have to catch me.”

He sped off in the direction of the warehouse and prayed that it would be enough to get Rothstein to follow him.

“ _It’s working dude, Rothstein’s following you,_ ” Cisco said over comms.

“ _I must say, he’s quite agile for a man his size,_ ” Professor Stein added, and that did not sound good. “ _You better be ready, Oliver._ ”

“ _Run, Barry, run,_ ” Joe said, and it was so faint that Barry wasn’t entirely sure he was meant to hear it. 

“ _C’mon, you’ve got this, Flash,_ ” Oliver said over their private comms, and Barry smiled. 

“Get ready, Arrow,” Barry said, picking up speed, swerving around city blocks, powered on by the thumping of Atom Smasher’s feet behind him. Finally, he made it to the warehouse, in front of the small cell they had, ready to overload with radiation. He had a moment to spot Oliver waiting in the rafters, green-clad and bow drawn, waiting for Atom Smasher.

Atom Smasher, quite literally, smashed through the floor.

“Now!” Barry shouted, and Oliver released three arrows, embedding themselves into various parts of Atom Smasher’s legs. He cried out, looking around up top for the source, but Oliver hid behind a large beam. Thankfully, it had worked, and Atom Smasher would be slow enough for the plan to go through. 

Atom Smasher looked forward, zeroed in on Barry, and charged forward. 

Barry held his breath as both he and Atom Smasher stumbled into the cell. 

Atom Smasher was trying to wrap his hands around Barry’s neck. Barry wasn’t going to let a repeat of last time happen. He dodged to left, but Atom Smasher anticipated, grabbing him in one hand by the throat.

He struggled to get enough oxygen to phase out. If only the grip would just loosen for a second. Barry saw spots swim as he gasped for air.

“Didn’t think I could catch you, huh?” Atom Smasher bellowed.

“Arrow…” Barry managed to gasp out. 

Suddenly, Atom Smasher cried out in pain, and his grip on Barry loosened enough that Barry was able to phase out. “Now!” Barry yelled out.

On cue, the steel door began to close, and Barry waited until the last second before slipping out from underneath. 

Atom Smasher turned, realizing he was stuck, and banged on the glass doors. 

Barry was still gasping for air, riding on adrenaline, when he heard Caitlin speak over the comms.

“ _The amount of radiation about to flood that room…_ ”

“ _Atom Smasher won’t be able to absorb it all,_ ” Professor Stein said. 

Barry felt sick to the stomach. He should be able to smirk, to cry out in triumph – they won. But some part of him wanted to vomit. _Rothstein_ , he thought. _Rothstein’s his name. Not Atom Smasher._

Barry watched through the glass as his animalistic growls turned to human cries of pain, as he grew godly and then collapsed, small. Barry felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Oliver standing right beside him.

“ _The radiation’s been cleared. It’s safe to go in,_ ” Cisco said over the comms, and he didn’t sound too joyful either.

Barry walked in, slowly, and nearly gasped at the sight. Rothstein laid on the floor, gasping, tears streaming out of his eyes. This man was in a world of pain. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t let you hurt anyone else.“ It felt inadequate. Excuses. 

“Why?” Oliver was kneeling down next to Barry, next to Rothstein. He didn’t have his voice modulator on, but somehow he still sounded just as commanding. “Why did you want to kill the Flash?“

“He promised he’d take me home if I– if I killed you,” Rothstein choked out between gasps for air.

This time is was Barry asking. “Who?” He needed to know. He _needed_ to know.


	14. Plato's Symposium: Dinner Talks About Love

Barry let Joe know what happened and hoped that he would get the appropriate authorities on the way to the power plant – he wouldn’t be surprised if Singh was calling him within the hour. He turned to Oliver, prepared to offer some witty banter, maybe a fist bump or two, when he saw the older man throwing on a leather jacket. It certainly hugged his biceps quite well and left very little to Barry’s imagination, not that Barry actively spent much time imagining him. Still, he wasn’t wearing a helmet and Barry caught one glimpse of his stoic face before he called Joe.

“Hey Joe? I think I’m gonna hang back here a few. I’ll meet you at home, alright?”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. everything’s fine. I’m just feeling like a walk.”

Barry could hear Joe’s confused face over the phone. “The Flash? Walking? Alright, but you ditch on dinner and I’ll hunt you down personally, you hear me?”

“I hear you, Joe. Bye.”

Barry turned to see Oliver throwing a leg over his motorcycle and quickly called out to him. “Hey, Ollie!”

Oliver turned to Barry, still not wearing a helmet which is not very safe and in fact, very illegal in Central City. Barry would know; he’s part of the police. “Do you need something, Barry?”

Oliver’s words were snippy, but Barry knew by now not to take it personally when Oliver got into one of his moods. “Yeah, actually. You wanna walk with me? You could even stay for dinner.” 

Oliver frowned. “I’ll walk you home, but I don’t think I should stay for dinner. I’m not entirely sure I’d be welcome.”

“Joe knows better than to threaten you when I’m around. It’ll be fine. Here, c’mon.” Barry held out his arm, crooked at the elbow, and to his surprise, Oliver actually took it before they began walking. “Don’t worry about your bike, I can run it over later. By the way, that is a total sick bike. Betcha it’s a total chick magnet, right?“

“Actually, I think I’m gonna take a break from women,” Oliver said. He chuckled, dry.

“What, the famous womanizer going celibate?“

“I didn’t say I was going celibate, I just said I was taking a break from _women._ ”

Barry looked at him, confused, before it dawned on him. Oh. _Oh._ “Didn’t know you were, um, like that.” Wow, real acceptance speech.

Oliver smiled. “You know, if I didn’t know that you were queer yourself, I might actually think you were homophobic. There’s not a problem here, or anything, is there?”

“No!” Barry was quick to answer. “Absolutely not. I just meant, um, that I didn’t know that you were _like me._ It’s actually kind of a comfort to know, anyways. Besides, what are the odds of two superheroes being queer?”

“Actually, Sara’s also bi, so that makes three.”

“Sara? As in, Gambit Sara? Came back from the dead and joined the League of Assassins Sara? Oh man, you’ve got so much to catch me up on.”

“Maybe another day.“ Oliver’s chuckle was worth the entire evening.

They lapsed into silence for another few minutes, just the scuffle of shoes on the concrete and the average city background, before Barry spoke again.

“You wanna tell me what’s really on your mind?” They stopped walking, Barry turning to face Oliver. They were taking up the whole sidewalk, but no one was out anyways. Besides, there was nothing Barry cared about more than the man in front of him.

“You wanna know why Felicity and I broke up?“ Oliver paused for a moment, not really waiting for an answer, but Barry nodded anyways. “We tried the quiet life. Fucked off to the middle of nowhere, some small suburban town. We had a picket white fence, for fucks sake.” 

“You never told me that,“ Barry whispered, but Oliver just chuckled, a burst of nervous energy, continued as if he hadn’t heard Barry.

“It doesn’t matter. I couldn’t give her that. I couldn’t give her a quiet life where she knows I’ll come home every night in one piece. But this whole day? Seeing you beat half to death like that earlier? Having to carry your limp body into the med bay? And then the whole business of this metahuman spouting the name ‘Zoom’? I mean, what kind of fucking name is that? And how many more homesick metahumans is he gonna send after you, huh? What if, one of these days, he succeeds? What if next time, I’m not carrying your half-dead body into the med bay, what if it’s full on dead?“

“Oliver,” Barry whispered. They had stopped walking.

“No, I know exactly how Felicity felt, because I didn’t know if you were gonna make it out in one piece and I fucking freaked the fuck out. Which felt really fucking wrong because I know exactly the type of risks we take but we don’t know what kind of threats tomorrow brings. I used to think you had it easy Barry but the threats here are something else. I don’t know what to do. For the first time in four years, this really scares me.“

“Well, you get a gold star for talking about your emotions in a healthy manner.” At Oliver’s glare, Barry’s nervous smile died down. “Right, probably the wrong time and place for awkward humor. I guess, I just never really thought that I meant that much to you.“

“Barry, my father killed himself to save me. My mother was involved in a plan to decimate the Glades. I lost my best friend since I was seven and I had to just sit there and watch him die. I have lost so many people, Barry, so many, and each one bears so damn heavy on my soul. But yours, I know, yours is right up there with Thea because I know it would hurt the most.” Oliver grabbed Barry’s hands, a link to bind them over the space between them, and squeezed, tethering Barry while his head was floating.

“Ollie, I–” Barry paused for a moment. So many words wanted to come tumbling out of his mouth. Something inside of him was telling him that it was the right moment for everything, for _I love you_ and _You are so important to me_ and _You’re my person, too_. Instead, he swallowed past the lump of letters in his throat. “I can’t tell you what the future will bring, and we both run the risk of not coming home at night. But having a home to come home to? It makes it all worth it. And this may sound crazy, but you’re kind of my best friend. Everything just feels, I don’t know, _right_ with you. You helped me get my home back, and now you’re a part of it. A real fucking important part of it. Besides, I’ve got faith it’ll all work out. You’ve got my back, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Oliver sniffed, started blinking fast.

Barry gasped. “Is the infamous Oliver Queen _crying_ right now?”

Oliver wiped at the corners of his eyes with his thumb. “Shut up.”

“I mean, I’m all for emotionally healthy Ollie, but damn let me share my excitement for a moment.” Barry continued, facing down Oliver’s glare with a smile. “Ollie, I’ve seen you have a panic attack and not shed a tear. The only time I’ve seen you cry was when Tommy died.“

Barry paused for a moment, letting that sink in.

“I guess I really am important to you, huh?“ Barry asked, the words coming out heavier than he intended.

Oliver glared at him, although his glossy eyes kind of killed the scary factor. “I take it back. You’re not my best friend.. Your an absolute asshole, and I feel no amount less terrified, by the way. Great pep talk.”

“Hey, we just had a great talk about our _feelings,_ like the grown-ass men we are. That wasn’t all for nothing.” Barry elbowed Oliver and they finally made it to Joe’s house. “Hey, you know what would make you feel better? A home cooked meal. I hear Iris is cooking tonight, so it may not be edible, but it’s warm and it’s inside?“

“I think I should head back, Barry.” Oliver looked out of place, standing in front of their house with his hands tucked into his pockets, eyes downcast. “I don’t want to intrude.“

“Nonsense. Besides, Iris would love you there. You know you were on her three list?”

“What’s a three list?“

“Iris and, um, Eddie actually made lists of people they could cheat with, and it would be okay. She’s got a total crush on you.”

Oliver smiled at Barry, and Barry felt a little warm inside. It was nice, talking about Eddie in such a casual way. Joe had once told Barry that when he fell, he fell hard. It’s crazy to think that he only knew Eddie for a year and he had already fallen so damn hard for him. Hell, he’s only know Oliver for less that three years, and somehow they went from grumpy acquaintances, to friends, to best friends, to something more than that. It took Eddie dying for Barry to realize exactly what was right in front of him, but already, he can picture a life together with Oliver. 

“I don’t think Iris would be a problem, but Joe night.”

Barry rolled his eyes. “You know what, you big baby? Come here.” He grabbed Oliver’s wrist and dragged him to the door. Barry knew full well that Oliver could resist, but he was letting himself be dragged by Barry and Barry certainly wasn’t complaining.

Barry knocked on the door. He kept a firm grip on Oliver’s wrist as they waited, until finally Joe opened, an apron tied around his waist.

“Hey Barr–oh, I didn’t realize we had company.” Joe somehow managed to look intimidating, even with the pink apron and the smudge of flour on his face.

“I don’t mean to impose, Detective West. I was just about to–”

Barry elbowed Oliver in the ribs, smiling in satisfaction at the grunt he got back. Okay, maybe he used his speed to help, but just a tiny bit. “What Oliver means to say, is would it be possible to add an extra place at the dining table?”

Joe eyed Barry’s hand around Oliver’s wrist, and Barry promptly dropped Oliver’s hand like a hot potato. “It wouldn’t be too much trouble, Mr. Queen. We already make tons of food for this skinny ass man over here. Come on in, you can hang your coats on the coat rack.”

“Call me Oliver,“ Oliver said as he entered, shrugging off his jacket. Barry watched as he relaxed, his shoulders dropping as they entered the warm house. Don’t get cold my ass.

“As soon as you call me Joe.” Joe made his way back into the kitchen, calling out to Iris. “We’ve got company!”

“I thought this was a family dinner,” Barry heard Iris say.

“Why don’t you go see who it is,” Joe suggested, and wow did Joe not forget that obsession 15-year-old Iris had with Oliver Queen. Barry prayed for Iris’s sake that Joe didn’t mention it during dinner.

“Alright, dad.” Barry heard Iris, talking to herself and she came into the living room, talking to herself. “Mr. Cop Man, always making everything a damn myster-oh, hello there. I’m Iris West. In case you didn’t remember.”

Iris came up to them and deadass held out her hand for a handshake, like they’ve never met before. What Barry was not expecting was for Oliver to grab her hand in his like a delicate flower and kiss it, like a medieval prince. Iris could barely contain her squeal and Barry would have been insanely jealous, if it weren’t for their conversation earlier.

“I remember you,” Oliver said, rising, still holding her hand. Barry could see now why people were always swooning over him. “Barry talks about his sister all the time.”

“Only good things, I hope,” Iris said, a giddy smile on her face. Oliver let go of her hand and smiled at her, but Barry saw it charming more than it was genuine.

“I told him he’s on your three list!” Barry blurted out, and damn, Barry was going to be hearing about that awkward mistake for months. “I mean, he was, as in, like, in the past, so it’s not as bad?”

“By three list, of course, he means three celebrities that I would love to interview, should the opportunity ever come up,” Iris quickly saved, her giddy smile quickly fading into her thinking face, her eyebrows crinkling together. A faint blush spread across her cheeks.

“Unfortunately, Barry also took the time to explain what a ‘three list’ was,” Oliver added, the unhelpful bastard. 

The glare Iris gave Barry was killer. “Ollie,” he whined.

He much preferred Iris’s glares to Iris’s maniac grins. “Did Barry ever tell you he was on Eddie’s three list?”

Wow, Barry knew that Iris meant it to be slightly funny, but the look that Oliver gave him, somewhere between confusion and pity, was not a good one. Barry gave him a small smile and a minute nod, and Oliver turned back to Iris. “Oh yeah? How did that happen?”

“Well, once Eddie found out that I knew Oliver Queen–not that I’m trying to claim we’re like close, or anything! I’m a reporter, I know all about people claiming to know famous people. But, I mean, Felicity and I text a bunch, and she knows you, so it’s like an indirect knowledge.” Iris paused, and the bemused look Oliver gave her wasn’t helping. “Oh my god, this is what it’s like to be Barry Allen.”

Oliver laughed, and he and Iris made their way over to the dinning room. “It’s alright, it happens to the best of us.“

Barry trailed awkwardly behind, leaning in the doorway to the dining room for a moment. He could hear Joe singing in the kitchen, and he watched as Iris and Oliver made small talk from across the dinner table. Somehow, Oliver seemed to fit into every part of his life, whether it be at Star Labs, or at home. As Barry took his own seat, staring into his own reflection in the white plate in from of him, he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to bring Oliver here are his boyfriend, instead of just his friend. Surprisingly, the fantasy wasn’t that much different from the reality.

“Barry!” Iris’s voice snapped him back to reality. “So, I’ve got the latest scoop that Flash and Arrow had a crossover tonight. They actually make a pretty good team. Do you think it’ll happen again?”

If Barry saw his answer in her blog tomorrow as a quote from the Flash, he might kill her.

“Well, I mean, I’m sure six hundred miles is nothing for the Flash, so there’s nothing stopping the Flash from becoming overly clingy and visiting the Arrow.“

“Do you think the Flash knows the Arrow’s alternate identity?”

“Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t, who knows?” Barry leaned back in his chair, knowing this would drive Iris crazy. Barry knew that she had a list of people she suspected were the Arrow on her laptop.

“I think that the Flash and Arrow know each other in real life,” Oliver piped up from beside Barry. They both turned to look at him. “I just think that they seem too friendly to be anything but friends.”

“Well, at least we can rule out the two of them dating. There’s still hope for all the ladies of Starling City!” Iris smiled, resting her head on her hand. “Not that a faceless man is anything compared to you, Oliver.”

Oliver blushed, and Barry stifled a laugh. Somehow, Oliver persisted. “Why couldn’t the Flash and Arrow date?” He leaned forward, folding his hands over his plate on the table. 

“Remember, I’ve met the Flash a few times, and let me tell you, he was definitely hitting on me at some point. I’m pretty sure even Joe was rooting for it.“

“I’m not entirely sure that’s true,” Oliver said, coughing into his hand, and Barry elbowed Oliver in the ribs. 

“Christmas, remember?” he gritted out of the side of his mouth, and Oliver’s eyes widened.

“She knows?” Oliver mouthed. He gestured over to her, but thankfully he covered the side of his mouth with his hand. Lord knows Barry and Iris spent too much time mouthing words to each other across the dinner table, and coming up with several secret codes with the hopes of evading Joe’s watchful eye, for her to not be able to read lips.

“She’s my sister, what did you think?” Barry mouthed back. 

Oliver glared at him. “You suck at the secret identity thing, by the way.”

“Hey, at least she doesn’t know about you.“

“Of course she doesn’t! I know how to keep a secr–”

“Are you boys done bickering like five year olds?“ Iris gave them an unimpressed look and crossed her arms, from across the table. Thankfully, they were saved by Joe coming in from the kitchen, holding two trays full of food.

“I hope you like lasagna, Oliver, because I’ve made way too much of this to make anything else.” Joe put down the trays and gestured to Barry. “I swear, this boy is gonna eat me out of my own damn house.”

“Hey! I tried to help, but you’ve banned me and Bear from the kitchen ever since that one Father’s day.” Iris honest to god pouted.

Barry shuddered. “Father’s Day of ’05. We agreed never to talk about that again.”

“I’m sure the food is lovely, Detecti– I mean, um, Joe.” Oliver turned to Barry, mouthing. “Father’s Day of ’05?”

“Nope. Not gonna get that out of me, Queen.” Barry knocked his shoulder against Oliver, who hummed. 

Iris watched the scene and pointed her fork at the pair, as everyone began eating. “You know, you two seem awfully close. Barry never mentioned you all too much, and now you guys are like best friends.”

“It, um, just sort of happened. Even more so over the past six months,” Barry said, sticking his fork in and out of his food. In. Out. Anything to avoid eye contact. Still, as Iris was silent, Barry chanced a glance over the table, to see Iris giving him a sad smile.

“Well, I guess the Best Friend position just kind of, opened up, huh?” Iris looked over to Oliver. “You seem like a good replacement. He seems happy around you. You hurt him, and I will use every press connection to destroy you.”

“ _He_ is right here,” Barry pointed out.

“I’ll keep that in mind, but thanks,” Oliver said. He smiled softly at Iris, and she returned the grin. 

The way that Iris was able to switch between a hyper fangirl and an overprotective sister still amazed Barry. Iris knew all the times he’d been burned by a friend before, dating all the way back to first grade and now, most recently, with Eddie’s death. Still, the talk sounded a little too much like when he brought Betty home in eleventh grade as his girlfriend, and that made his stomach twist in an uncomfortable way that he didn’t want to begin to think about. Especially with Oliver sitting inches away from him.

They finished the meal with, thankfully, few embarrassing moments. When Barry was done clearing away the dishes, Iris dragged him away to her room.

As soon as the door closed, Iris squealed and punched Barry in the shoulder.

“Ouch! You know, that actually hurts. That hook punch put out Tony Woodward,” Barry complained, rubbing his shoulder.

Iris glared at him. “Next time, give me warning before you bring Oliver Queen over for dinner! I’m not even wearing my good makeup,” she pouted.

“You look fine to me.“ Barry shrugged.

“That’s not the point! The point is that you, Barry Allen, are an awful, awful, awful person.” Iris poked him in the chest with every ‘awful’, and Barry found him backing up until he was against the wall.

“So, what, do you really like Oliver? I mean, I could put in a good word for you,” Barry suggested. He felt a pang in his chest as he spoke, and he found himself very much opposed to the idea, but this was Iris and he was pretty sure he’d kill for her so he wasn’t sure where that left him. “I mean, he did say that he was swearing off women, so I’m not sure how much luck you’d have.”

“You see! How do you know this stuff?” Iris glared at him. “Barry, why don’t you tell me these things anymore? I mean, what, you won’t speak to me for months but you’ll get a whole new best friend? And judging by dinner, you two seemed pretty cozy with each other.”

“What, are you afraid I’ve replaced you? Because you sure as hell weren’t concerned when it was Eddie.”

“Eddie was,…he was different,” she settled with. Barry cocked an eyebrow at her, urging her to keep going, and Iris grabbed his hands and had him sit down on the bed next to her. “You knew how much I loved Eddie, right? And how much he loved me?”

“Iris, you guys were gonna get married. You were a perfect romance novel gone right.” Barry turned so he was facing her, their knees touching and his arm around her back.

“When we first started dating, Eddie told me he was polyamorous.” Iris was speaking to ground and holy shit did Barry not have time to process that before she continued. “On the first date, actually. He said that if our relationship was going to progress, it might come up in the future. He said that if it was going to be a problem, I should just walk away. Real proud of himself, Bear, totally unashamed. I can’t help but admit he kind of reminded me of you.”

Iris looked up at Barry and he could see the tears welling up in her eyes. She smiled, blinked a couple of times, sniffled. 

“Iris,” Barry whispered. He wasn’t sure what else he could say.

“And it took my a while to get used to the idea. A whole week of googling about this stuff before I even called him back.” She laughed, shaking her head slightly, avoiding eye contact. “And I thought I would be okay with it, but the idea of Eddie dating someone else? Terrified me. I was so worried that someone would steal him away from me.

“And then, you and Ed started hanging out. A lot. God Barry, I had to watch him fall in love with you–” Iris’s voice broke, and she started full on sobbing into her hand. Barry rubbed his hand up and down her back. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he knew that Iris needed to get this out. The two of them were more alike than either would admit out loud, and Barry knew she had been carrying this around since even before Eddie died. She took a few deep breaths and continued, her voice thick and shaky with tears. “I watched him fall in love with you, and I told myself that it was okay. Because you were straight. So when Eddie told me he wanted to pursue _something_ with you, I was banking on you not feeling the same. I told him that as soon as we were married, he should tell you.

”God, I thought he could just get you out of his system, but now he’s gone and I’m the reason he was cheated out of never being happy. It doesn’t even matter if you felt the same. He never got to find out for himself, and you never got to hear him say it. All because I was the selfish bitch that couldn’t stand to lose him. Well, look what good that’s done me.”

She folded into Barry, her shoulders shaking and tears spilling onto Barry’s sweater as he wrapped his arms around her and held her. Surprisingly, Iris was one of the few people blessed with not having an ugly cry. Her gasps for breath were the only sounds filling up the room, feeling smaller than when they were kids. As she finally calmed down, she leaned back, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

“I’m really sorry about this. I know this must be a lot, hearing that your best friend, who you spend six months grieving, was in love with you.” Iris grabbed Barry’s hand. “To both of you, I’m really sorry.”

“Iris, it’s okay.” Barry squeezed her hand, used his other hand to tilt her chin up so that she was meeting his eyes. “I want you to know I mean it – it’s alright. Now, the words I’m gonna say are very similar to the words of one genius detective who also happens to be downstairs, so you know they’re from a credible source.”

Iris smiled at him, hitting him with her snotty sleeve. “I’m a journalist and even I hate MLA source citing.”

“Hey, no diversions till I’m done, okay? You know I’m bad at this and get distracted easily.” Barry pointed a finger at her, and only at her nod of approval did he continue. “First of all, I already knew about Eddie’s, um, feelings. After he was, um, when he was, well, during the Incident, he told me. Confessed it with his dying breath. I’ve been terrified of telling you for months, though, so glad that wait’s over.”

“Oh, Barr–”

“Nope, again, not your fault. If anything, that’s my fault for not telling you. But also, Iris, you want me to tell you that it’s not your fault Eddie and I didn’t get a chance to see where this could go? Because it kind of is your fault. But it also kind of is my fault, and Eddie’s fault. Either one of us could have said something before, you know, the Incident, but we didn’t. And the time I had with Eddie, as his friend? I still cherish it, just as much as if we were dating.”

“You really did love him, didn’t you?” Iris’s question didn’t warrant an answer. “Seeing you with Oliver tonight, it made me realize that maybe Eddie’s feelings weren’t so unrequited.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?“

“Barry, if there’s anything Eddie taught me, it’s that there’s room in our hearts to love so many people at once.” Iris placed her arms on his shoulders, looked him dead straight in the eye, and he was swimming in her hazel. “Barry Allen, I have known you since we were in elementary school, and so you better believe me when I tell you that you are in love with the man being interrogated by our dad in the living room.”

“That’s, not, I’m not, I mean –”

“You are such a shit liar.” Iris smiled at him and okay, this is not entirely how Barry had imagined his coming out to be, but it seemed to be going alright. He thought. She seemed to sense his worry. “You can relax, I don’t care who you love. All I know is that you are in love with Oliver and I’m pretty sure you’re also still in love with Eddie, and that’s scary. And don’t try to deny the Eddie part. You slept on his grave. That’s borderline creepy. Actually, I take that back. That’s actually creepy.”

“I don’t know, I just, I feel like I’m betraying him by moving on. We didn’t even date. Isn’t that crazy?”

Iris rested her hand on his cheek, and he turned into it, soft, the same way she would rest her hand on his cheek when he was ten and grieving for the first time in his life. “I think you are very human, Barry Allen, and you have a very big heart. And I think you should go downstairs and talk to him.”

“Do I have to?” Barry whined. He hid his head in her shoulder, closed his eyes, but she just shoved him off. 

“Of course you have to, don’t be a big baby.” At Barry’s Bambi eyes, Iris’s face softened. “This is your chance for your happy ending. You got cheated out of one before, don’t let this opportunity pass you by.”

“You know what? I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna tell him how I feel. Thank you, Iris, so much. I don’t know what I did without you.” Barry stood up and kissed her cheek.

“I know, I’m awesome, right?” Iris laughed. “Well, hopefully you’ll be spending the night with your handsome soon-to-be beau, but if things go south, you should come stay the night. You know you’re always welcome here, right?”

“Of course I know, Iris.” Barry gently touched his hand to Iris’s cheek, cupping her face, staring into her eyes for a brief moment before he pulled his hand back and turned away. It was easy to see how he could have fallen in love with her, the first kid his age to show him kindness, love. If he’s being honest, Iris was the one who taught him how to love. He wasn’t still in love with her. God no, too many things had changed for both of them. But in another life, they could have been happy. And besides, Iris would forever have a special place in his heart, this time, though, as his one and only sister.

Barry made it promptly three steps out of the room – a lifetime for speedsters – before he came barreling in. “Do you think maybe I should, I don’t know, type out my big speech first, so that I don’t say anything dumb? Can I practice on you, actually?”

Iris shoved him out of the room and slammed the door. “You got this! I expect text updates!” Iris called through the door. Barry would have laughed, but the bravado was wearing off and his stomach was tying itself in knots.


	15. I'm a Man of Action

“So, I guess it’s just the two of us.” The look on Joe’s face made his words twice as menacing. Not that Oliver was afraid of him.

“I guess it is,” Oliver said, leaning back in his chair. A squeal was heard through the house, and Oliver looked to Joe in concern. “Should we be worried, or…”

“Nah, she does that sometimes.” 

They made eye contact, Joe glaring at him and refusing to look away. Alright. This was how he was going to play this. Joe was hot and cold with Oliver, one minute inviting Oliver into the house, asking to be called Joe, the next starting an alpha male staring contest. 

Oliver wasn’t here to play games. He looked away.

Joe got up, and unreadable expression in his eyes, and pushed in his chair. Oliver mimicked his motions.

“Why don’t we take this to the living room?” Joes suggested, although it wasn’t quite a suggestion, and turned his back to Oliver, walking out of the kitchen. Oliver followed, and they sat, diagonal from one another, Oliver making sure he had clear sight of the doorway.

“Lovely home you have here, Joe,” Oliver said, gesturing around the living room.

Joe snorted. “I’m well aware, thank you. Although I wasn’t sure someone of your tastes would like it.”

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to say here, but–”

“What are your intentions with my son?”

Ah. There it was. Out in the open. Over-protective parent Joe was coming out. It amazed him just how much Barry’s family wanted to protect him, even after the past few months. Still, Oliver wasn’t sure why he was amazed. He’d do the same exact thing for Thea. 

“I’d like to continue to be his friend, sir,” Oliver paused, but Joe seemed like he wanted Oliver to continue. “Barry is…different from anyone I’ve ever had. He understands things about my life as Green Arrow that no one else gets, and my life as Oliver Queen. He knows loss, he knows pain, he knows grief, and yet there’s still this unmistakable…light around him.”

Joe gave him an unimpressed look.

“I know that I’m full of darkness, sir. It manifests itself every time I put on that hood. But I have been careful, and will continue to be careful, to make sure my darkness doesn’t fade out Barry’s light. His humanity, his heart, is one of the best things about him, sir, and I don’t intend to take that away from him.”

“Did you know that Barry waited over ten years to tell Iris how he felt?” Joe paused before continuing, and Oliver kept his confusion to himself. “Damn, he was crazy about that girl. He woulda followed her to the edge of the damn universe and then some if she asked. He still would, I think, but it’s different.”

“I’m not exactly sure why you’re telling me this,” Oliver ventured.

“Now hold up, there’s a point to this. I watched him be in love with my daughter since before he even knew what love was, and it drove him a little crazy. One of the great things about my son is his ability to love so deeply and so purely and to let so many people into his life. But it leaves him vulnerable to so much hurt, pain that will hurt him twice as much as any other man because his heart is so damn big. He can be a damn fool, sometimes. But it’s what makes Barry, well, Barry.

“I think my son is in love with you, and I know for a fact that you are in love with my son. Now, what are you going to do about that?”

***

Barry came running down the stairs as humanly fast as possible, his converse clicking on every wooden step. When he ran into the living room, he found Joe sitting alone.

“Hey, Joe, do you know where Oliver is?” Barry looked around the room, borderline frantically, to no avail.

“He’s actually outside.” Joe gestured to the door and Barry went without question.

Barry found Oliver bent leaning, resting his arms on the porch rails. As Barry approached, he could see the look of confusion on his face.

Oliver looked up at Barry. “Barry, what are you–”

Barry strode over with purpose. “Fuck it, I’m tired of talking,” he said, cutting Oliver off. Suddenly, he was inches away from Oliver’s face. One look into those blue eyes, and he knew what to do.

He stood up on his tippy-toes, snaked an arm around the back of Oliver’s neck, and kissed him.


	16. I Miss Missing You, Now And Then

It wasn’t even a kiss at first, really. Their lips mashed together at first, teeth clinking. But Barry pressed himself closer, sought out the warmth coming off of the older man, and they managed to find a rhythm, lips pressed together. It was like every part of Barry was tingling, on fire, his thoughts were reducing to the man in front of him, the scratch of stubble along his chin, the arms cradling his waist, his own arms linked behind the other man’s head, keeping him close, pulling him closer. When his lungs felt like they were about to burst, they parted, Barry pressing his forehead to Oliver’s and opening his eyes to meet blue, blue, blue.

“Ollie,” he gasped, their breaths mixing in air, unable to think of much else to say. 

And that was what broke the spell. 

Oliver stumbled back, Barry’s arms falling uselessly to his side as he watched. Oliver, still gasping, looked at Barry for a couple of seconds with wild eyes, before calming walking around Barry, down the stairs of the porch, and sprinting away from the house.

Barry stood there, frozen, useless, and oh so very cold.

***

“Do you mind if I sleep in here tonight?” Barry stood in Iris’s doorway. When she looked at him, he offered up a sheepish smile.

“Oh, Bear, of course.” Iris spoke so softly, opened up her arms, and Barry fell into them.


	17. Let Me Love You

It was promptly five in the fucking morning when Joe heard a knocking at his front door.

Honestly, Joe would have preferred the knocking be earlier. His alarm was set for five forty-five so that he could go on a morning run – he was getting old, he needed to stay in shape – and so if someone had knocked at three am? Two am? He could have knocked the fucker out and calmly gone back to sleep for the next few hours.

Five fucking am in the fucking morning? This fucker was asking for a beating.

Joe grabbed the gun he kept nearby – as both a cop and the father of a superhero, he was always ready for anything – and crept his way up to the door. “Identify yourself,” he said, through the door. He wasn’t about to go point a gun at a girl scout, after all.

“I need to speak to Barry.”

Oh. It’s this fucker.

Joe opened the door with more gusto than he needed to, stopping it before it hit the wall. Both Barry and Iris needed the sleep, and just because he had to wake up for this idiot, didn’t mean that they had to.

“Why?”

“I’d, umm, I’d prefer to speak to Barry about it, if you don’t mind.” Oliver looked nervous as he spoke, and Joe very much wanted to punch him.

“I think you’ve done enough damage here, _Mr. Queen._ ”

“Please,” Oliver continued, ignoring the way Joe referred to him. He had the eyes of a desperate man, tired, wild, willing to do anything. His son had that affect on people. “I know I screwed up. I’m just trying to salvage what little I can.”

Joe almost felt bad for the man, but after seeing the way that Barry came in last night? Barry was an emotional kid, had been since he was little. Joe had seen him cry on so many occasions he couldn’t even count, for things as little as seeing a dead sparrow on the sidewalk. But when he was really hurting? Barry shut down. He did it after his mother died, he did it after the Singularity, and he did it last night, stumbling in with a blank look in his eyes.

“Look, I don’t know what happened last night. I don’t. And I really don’t wanna know, because I don’t want to go to jail for shooting you. All I know is that you did something dumb, and that you weren’t there.” Joe glared and Oliver and the man actually had the audacity to look guilty. Damn right, he was. “So here’s the deal. Y’all are both grown ass men. If you still want to see Barry in the morning, and if, and only if, he wants to see you, you can do that.”

“I won’t change my mind, sir, I am very sure of that.”

“Good. I’ll see you at a reasonable hour then.” At Oliver’s grateful nod, Joe felt emboldened to add on one more thing. “And Oliver?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Think twice about knocking at my door this damn early in the morning again. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Joe closed the door softly. He wanted nothing more than to slam the door shut, preferably hitting Queen’s face, but he clicked the safety back on his gun and went back to bed, resolved to lie there, staring at nothing, until his alarm went off.

***

Okay, something was definitely up. The first time it happened, Barry barely noticed it. But as they kept doing it, he definitely knew something was up.

“Would you guys stop looking at each other like that?” Barry snapped. Both Joe and Iris stopped and looked at Barry, and damn, there was the other thing that told him something was up. “Okay, and stop looking at me like that. Something’s up.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Barry,” Iris said gently, reaching a hand across the table to place on his own, but Barry snatched it away.

“Nope, something is definitely up. You guys are looking at me with some weird mix of pity and guilt, and I am not here for it. I’m not an idiot, you know.”

Joe just sighed. “We know you’re not, Barry.”

“We just wanted to give you a nice meal first,“ Iris added.

“First? Before what?” Barry looked between the two of them in confusion.

“I think you should go out on the porch,” Iris suggested, and Joe nodded in agreement.

“What’s on the porch, you guys?”

“I think it’s better if you see for yourself.” Joe gestured in the direction where the door was, and Barry got up slowly, skeptically. 

Barry saw why when, as soon as he opened the door, he was met with one Oliver Queen.

“I think it’s cool that you can sleep standing up,” Barry said, and Oliver startled awake from where he was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and immediately jumped into a fighting stance. Barry held his hands up in what he hoped was a non-threatening manner. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, you’re alright there, it’s just me.”

Evidently disgruntled, Oliver slowly came to his senses, dropping his fists and wiping his eyes and even the corner of his mouth. Somehow, his hair had managed to become ruffled, and Barry found his bedhead – or wallhead? – slightly adorable.

“I, um, I needed to talk to you,” Oliver started with, and he looked at Barry in confusion. “You’re not mad. Why aren’t you mad?”

“Oh, I’m pissed you ran out on me, instead of staying and talking like a normal human being. But I’ve had a whole night to calm down. Besides,” Barry couldn’t help but add with a grin, “you look like shit.” 

“I didn’t sleep much last night. Rode all the way to Star City, Dig had a talking-to with me, rode all the back here, and knocked on the door at 5am which definitely was a mistake.” Oliver honest to god cringed at the memory, and Barry wanted to burst out laughing.

“Yeah, Joe’s always cranky if you wake him up.” Barry smiled. “So, you wanted to talk to me? You can talk.”

“Last night, Joe said something to me that terrified me. He said that I was in love with you, and that you were in love with me.” Oliver paused, before continuing. “It was scary because it was true. Still is true. At least, the first part, anyways.”

Barry couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Ollie,” he whispered, and it was an all too painful reminder of last night. “Of course it’s true.”

“And last night was great, it really was. But since there’s no way for us to be together, I’m here to ask for your forgiveness and your friendship.”

Hold up. What? “Why is there no way for us to be together? I don’t understand.”

“Barry, I’m not going to let you get involved with my life. There’s too much darkness. I won’t be the reason you lose everything good about you.”

“I’m already involved!” Shit. There were tears welling up in Barry’s eyes, and he ferociously tried to blink them back. He wasn’t going to cry. Not here. Not now. He took a deep breath before continuing. “Oliver, that’s bullshit. You think you’re the only one with darkness in his life? You think you’re the only one who’s self-destructive, who runs towards danger, who knows pain? Well, news flash, big guy, but I’m just as broken as you are.”

“I’m no good for you, Barry!” They were squaring up, both raising their voices. “You killed a man last night! Are we going to talk about that?”

“I did what I had to, to keep more people from getting hurt,” Barry seethed. 

“That’s not you talking. The Barry I know would never give up trying to help someone, no matter how bad.”

“Well maybe the Barry finally learned that you can’t save everybody! Maybe I am still haunted by every life I have had to take to make sure countless others aren’t.”

Oliver spoke in a whisper. “I would do unspeakable things for you, Barry.“

Barry came close to Oliver, gripped at his forearms, looked straight into his eyes. “Then let me be there to make sure you don’t.”

“We can’t give up our cities.”

“600 miles is nothing to a speedster.”

“I can’t ever give you a normal life.”

“It wouldn’t be full if it were normal, would it be?” Barry shrugged. “I’m not Felicity.”

“I’ve got so much darkness. I’m can’t be the reason your light dims.” They were both whispering.

“We’re not just one thing, Oliver. I have got darkness in me too, and you are so full of light you can’t see. You’ve got a good heart, Ollie. Let me love it.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you, Barry.” Oliver leaned down, pressed his forehead against Barry’s. 

Barry just grinned at him. “I could say the same about you.” He leaned up and pressed his lips to Oliver’s.

It’s hard to kiss someone when you’re both smiling so damn hard, Barry learned. It’s hard, but it’s just as sweet.

***

Iris and Joe were definitely not waiting for them at the table. Joe may have hated the guy, but he couldn’t help but grin at how happy Barry was, walking in hand in hand with Queen. Iris’s grin was cheek to cheek.

“Hey guys?“ Barry looked nervous, but he looked up at Oliver’s face, squeezed his hand, and barreled on. “I’d like to introduce you to someone. This is Oliver Queen, my boyfriend.”

Iris whooped.


	18. Gentle Epilogue

“I’m sorry the two of you never had your happy ending,” Oliver whispered, fingers tracing the name on the headstone. Eddie Thawne. “I’m doing my best to give him one with me.”

Oliver stood, and Barry smiled at him, kissed his cheek sweetly. “Thank you, for coming with me.“

Oliver nodded. “Of course. You need a minute alone?” 

Barry could only nod, overwhelmed with all the emotions. Nostalgia. Grief. Happiness. It felt wrong to be happy in a graveyard.

“I’ll be waiting over there.” Oliver squeezed Barry’s shoulder and then he was gone.

Barry knelt down, ran his fingers through the dirt in front of the headstone. “So, polyamorous, huh?”

If Eddie were alive, Barry might have died. One point to Barry for the worst conversation starter ever.

“Then you know how it is to love more than one person, right?“ Barry paused, but there was no answer. “I’m kind of crazy in love with Oliver. But, I think a tiny part of me will always be a little in love with Iris. And a big part of me might always be in love with you. And that’s just the way the heart works, huh? Easy to fall, not easy to pick myself back up. But, I’m trying. And he’s helping.”

Barry laid the bouquet of flowers in the cup. Irises. His favorite. “I was so afraid of betraying you, Ed, but I think you’d want me to be happy, right? Love is putting someone else’s needs before your own. And I know you loved me, so that’s that.”

Barry traced over the name one last time, the familiar bumps and ridges on a cold slab of stone, before standing up. “This is goodbye, for now, I guess. I won’t forget you, I couldn’t. You were the first person I fell in love with, after Iris. But I think I’m finally ready to move on. So here it is. I love you, and you will be a part of me forever, but I’ve found someone who makes me so damn happy, and I need to put everything I have into keeping him around for as long as I can.”

He knew he was putting it off, leaving the grave, but he knew he needed to. Eddie would know, wherever he was, everything that Barry said and didn’t say and wanted to say but couldn’t. So he kissed his fingers and pressed them to the top of the headstone, before he walked away.

Barry linked his arm in with Oliver’s as soon as he met him, using his other hand to wipe his face as he sniffled. “You okay?” Oliver asked. 

Barry nodded, smiling. “You know, we’ve both had such hard stories. Stories full of pain and loss and darkness and shit we really didn’t deserve. And that sucks. It really does, doesn’t it?”

They stopped walking, Oliver turning to face Barry. 

“Maybe together,“ Barry continued, “we can find our gentle epilogue.”

Oliver smiled. “I’ve already found mine,” he said, and leaned in for a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for making it to the end! I hope you enjoyed the journey of reading as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'd love to hear from all of you, and wishing you lots of love!! Keep shipping you guys!! Olivarry may never be canon, but it can live on in our hearts.


End file.
